


Not that Girl

by Arctic_comet



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Flashbacks, Friends With Benefits, Getting Back Together, Love, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-02-06 17:04:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12822072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arctic_comet/pseuds/Arctic_comet
Summary: The story starts on Nancy Wheeler's wedding day in 1990. Can Nancy and Jonathan make their way back to each other after years of separation?





	1. The Almost

**Author's Note:**

> Going for something a little different this time around :) Please bear with me!

_August 1986_

_Jonathan fiddles with the tape in his hands. This is the last chance to give it to her, but should he? It's not like he has to see her tomorrow. This is goodbye. They already said as much last week. She doesn’t want this anymore, she’s not even willing to try._

_Closure. That's the word. He knows his feelings don't matter, but at least he won't be thinking about the 'what if's. She'll know the truth and it won't matter, but maybe that way he can move on._

_He still doesn't like most people. She's one of the exceptions, and they don't come along often, he knows that. If he's being realistic, he knows he probably won't find a girl who can make him feel the way Nancy does, but he swears he will find something that makes him happy. Moving to New York is the first step._

_"Jonathan? Are you going inside?" asks Will from the backseat._

_"Yeah... I'll be back in a minute."_

_"Okay."_

_He gets out of the car and walks to the door. Mrs. Wheeler answers the doorbell._

_"_ _Hi Jonathan. What can I do for you?"_

_"Is Nancy home?"_

_"No, she's not, but you can wait-"_

_"No, there's no need," he interrupts. A part of him wishes he could've seen her one last time, but it's all the same, really. She dumped him (much later than he thought she would, but still), and that's all that matters._

_"Can you just make sure she gets this?" He continues, holding out the tape to her._

_"Of course."_

_"Thanks."_

_"You're driving to New York today?"_

_"Yeah."_

_Mrs. Wheeler nods._

_"Good luck with everything, Jonathan," she says, her hand briefly landing on his shoulder._

_"Thank you." He's always liked Nancy's mom, as she's always treated them all well. Will. His mom. Even him, throughout his relationship with Nancy._

_The door closes quietly as he turns his back to Karen Wheeler and begins to walk back to the car._

_It's over. Whether Nancy listens to the tape or not, he's had his say, and he can make peace with himself. It's time to close that door for good. Not that it was ever really open in the first place, but he guesses a part of him kept on hoping until the very last minute._

_"Are you okay?" asks Will._

_"Yeah, I'm fine. Why do you ask?"_

_"Because you're not saying anything and you've been sighing every five minutes for the last two hours."_

_"It's nothing, Will. Just... It can be hard to leave home. I'll miss seeing you and Mom every day."_

_"Things are going to be so weird without you," replies his brother wistfully and not for the first time Jonathan wonders if he's doing the right thing._

_What is he doing, leaving his family like this? Only to chase a dream that may never come true, and to forget about the only girl he's ever loved?_

***

_July 1990_

Nancy looks beautiful. That's what everyone keeps telling her. Even her dad, who looks pleased she's doing exactly as he always expected her to. Be the good daughter, stick around the family, settle down in Hawkins with someone with little ambition. Yet she can't blame her parents or Steve for ending up here, she's made this choice all on her own.

It's too late to back out. _Right?_

Everyone is in the church, waiting for her to walk down the aisle in her stupidly frilly white wedding dress. Although she knows the feeling isn't real, the dress suddenly feels constricting, and she wants to take it off. She cracks the window open. _It's just nerves. Calm down. You can and will go through with this. Breathe._

She always wanted to see the sea. On both sides of the country, preferably, but especially the Atlantic. In New York. Maybe even somewhere in Europe. And yet here she is, 22 years old with no college degree, about to get married, and she hasn't seen any of those places. The furthest she's been from Hawkins is Chicago, where she attended college for two years. _She could've seen all of that, and even more._

Joyce and Will Byers are sitting among the other wedding guests. She hears Joyce's brief exchange with her own mother behind the door of the dressing room, confirming that Jonathan wouldn't be joining them. Not for the first time in four years, she finds herself wishing he were there. With her. 

_I can't do this._

What the hell is she going to tell her parents? Or better yet, what is she going to tell Steve? If she wants to stop this, it has to be now, before they're at the altar. Peeking out the door, she sees nobody. Steve is supposed to be in the room on the other side of the narrow hallway, but when she knocks, there is no answer.

"You ready, sweetheart?" asks her mother, suddenly appearing behind her.

"I, uh, need to go to the bathroom first," she mumbles, but still manages a nervous smile to keep her mom's suspicions at bay.

"Okay, hon, but don't take too long! Everyone's waiting for you."

_Don't I know that._

It's insane, but over and over again her eyes keep returning to the window. She can squeeze through. She's so anxious that she almost forgets to grab her purse, but then she's pulling herself out, inch by inch, and her heels hit the flower bed under the window, the dirt staining the edges of her skirt. _It doesn't matter, because she is not getting married today._

There's a car driving down the street. Initially she fears it's a late wedding guest, but then she recognizes the vehicle. _Jonathan._

She runs as fast as she can, reaching the middle of the street on time. The tires of the car screech as Jonathan brings it to an abrupt stop before stepping out.

“Jesus, Nancy? What the hell? I could’ve ran you over!” he huffs, his eyes wide in surprise and concern.

“I know. Look, I’m sorry, but I just... I need to get out of here. Can you give me a ride? Please?” she begs, the last word coming out as more of a sob than a word. Right now he’s pretty much her only hope.

“What’s the matter?” Jonathan asks, his tone less harsh now.

“I- I’ll explain everything later, okay? Can we please just go now?” she pleads again.

He relents with a sigh, opening her the passenger side door.

“Of course. Just tell me where to go.”

“Thank you,” she whispers.

The air in the car is stiflingly hot, but she’s still shivering. Jonathan fidgets on his seat, adding to the awkwardness of the silence. They haven’t really talked since their breakup. Four fucking years. _God._

“I need to change out of this... Can you drive me to my parents’ house?” There’s no way in hell she can go back to the house Steve bought for them six months ago.

“Sure.”

He glances sideways, his eyes taking her in properly at last. It’s as if he’s only now realizing that she’s really wearing a wedding dress. Yet he says nothing.

“Long time,” she murmurs gently, managing a small smile.

“Yeah,” he replies, the corners of his mouth tugging upward.

_I missed you._

Of course she doesn’t say that, and neither does he, but it is true, at least for her. Jonathan is not family or a friend of her and Steve’s, but only hers. _All hers._ Or at least he used to be. That’s what she needs right now. Someone who won’t judge her and whose first thought won’t be how she’s embarrassed the family in front of half of her population of Hawkins, or how much she’s hurt Steve.

He pulls in front of the familiar house and turns back to her.

“Do... Do you want me to go?” he asks, hesitant. She knows he will really leave if she asks him to.

“No... Let me get changed, I’ll be back soon.”

His brows lift, but he doesn’t ask where she wants to go next. Maybe he knows she doesn’t even know the answer to that question herself. The only thing she knows is that she doesn’t want to be alone. Her room is as she left it in the morning. Luckily there’s still at least a week’s worth of clothes left over in her closet, and she quickly packs them all into a bag. _Where the hell is she going?_

“Where to?” Jonathan finally asks when she settles herself on the passenger seat again.She shrugs.

“Can you... I don’t know... Just drive around for a while? Not in Hawkins, but somewhere with less people.”

“All right... So you don’t know where you want to go?”

“I don’t,” she admits with a sigh.

Nancy knows she should be terrified and even more panicked and upset than she is, but there’s a strange peace inside of her now. Jonathan simply nods, keeping his eyes fixed on the road. Not for the first time she finds herself admiring his calmness. Then again, she figures he’s seen so much shit in his life that his ex girlfriend running away from her own wedding and pretty much hijacking him and his car is nothing.

She actually lets outrage hysterical giggle.

“What’s so funny?”

“That I’ve just messed up my life completely, we’re sitting here together for the first time in four years and you’re totally calm about everything. It’s absurd, Jonathan.”

“I think you’ve got to tell me more if you want me to freak out,” he answers, and she hears the smile in his voice. Somehow it strengthens her resolve, giving her renewed faith that somehow everything’s going to be okay.

“I couldn’t do it. Marry Steve. I was about to tell him that, but then I realized it was too late. He was already at the altar... So I climbed out the window,” she explains.

“You’re right. That is a real mess,” he sighs.

“I could use a drink, if you don’t mind.”

“You want a liquor store or is Hopper’s beer good enough? There’s some at my mom’s.”

“Beer’s fine.”

The Byers house brings back a lot of memories. Mostly of her time with Jonathan, who grabs her a beer from the fridge, refusing to join in.

“Here you go,” he says.

“Thanks. I probably shouldn’t stay here too long... Your family-“

“Yeah, they’re bound to have a few questions if they see you here,” he replies, that impish smile that’s haunted her for four years making another appearance.

_I missed you._

She grows serious again as she returns to reality, which is that she has nowhere to go.

“When are you heading back to New York?” she asks, barely comprehending the words herself as they leave her mouth.

He stares at her, stunned.

“I, uh, I’m supposed to drive back in a couple of days.”

“Take me with you.”

He stares at her as if she’s lost it compltelely, and she can’t blame him. It is insane. There’s nothing and nobody for her in New York. Except freedom, adventure and Jonathan himself. _Assuming he wants to have anything to do with her, which is hardly a given._

“You want to go to New York with me?” he slowly repeats.

She nods.

“Yeah. But I want to leave right away. I can’t... I can’t stay here anymore. I know I’m asking for a lot... Especially from you. You don’t owe me anything.”

“I know that. And you don’t owe me either. Let me get my stuff, and then we can hit the road.”

“Wait... You’re saying yes?” she asks, frowning. 

He grins at her shyly.

“Sure looks like it.”

She’s overcome by an urge to embrace him, for being there for her now, and not for the first time when she’s being _really_ weird and messing up everyone's lives. All of a sudden it's as if they're back in high school and her heart is still filled with big dreams.

“You don’t have to," she tells him.

“I think I’ve heard that one before and you should know my answer.”

This has to be one of the worst days of her life, but regardless, she grins.

“I’ll go wait in the car,” she tells him, overwhelmed by a need to be by herself for a few minutes.

In his car she shifts through his tapes, trying to find something for their long drive. A shudder runs through her body as her hands close around a familiar mixtape. Summer 1985. _He’s kept it around all this time? Or has it been left behind by accident?_

She doesn’t want to think about what that may mean, but she can’t bring herself to shove the tape back where she found it. Instead her eyes scan over the track list. She realizes she still knows most of these songs by heart. She used to mouth the lyrics to Jonathan after all. He would smile and tell her she could sing along if she wanted to, but her voice is so bad that she decided not to subject either one of them to the torture.

Suddenly a car pulls to the driveway, and she ducks immediately. Two doors slam shut and she risks a glance out of the windshield. It’s Joyce and Will. They don’t approach Jonathan’s car, so maybe they haven’t seen her. Jonathan comes outside, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. His voice is quiet as he talks to his mom. She doesn't catch most of what Joyce and Will say because their backs are turned to her.

Her heart almost flies out of her chest when Joyce turns and looks straight at her. _Did Jonathan tell her?_ She doesn't look angry, merely concerned. A lump forms in her throat. _Joyce must think she's crazy, too._ Then she remembers all the things Jonathan's told her about his mother's anxiety, the stuff he's dealt with since childhood. _Maybe she gets it after all._ She asks Jonathan another question, but once he's answered, she hugs him tightly before Jonathan pulls his brother into his arms. Nancy holds her breath the entire time as she watches him raise his hand in a wave for one last time. 

"You ready?" he asks, fastening his seat belt.

"Yeah," she answers. Jonathan starts the engine and she wants to cry out of relief. 


	2. The Past

_June 1986_

_“Where are we going?” she asks once more, hoping to coax even a hint out of her boyfriend._

_“You’ll see,” he smirks. “You’re forgetting that I have years of experience of keeping surprises as secret from a younger sibling,” he continues._

_“Except that I’m not your 14-year-old brother. I have my own ways of getting information,” she casually replies, her fingers creeping up his denim-covered leg._

_He groans, but reaches out to remove her hand gently._

_“Oh, come on, it’s our graduation day, Jonathan! You’re being no fun at all,” she pouts._

_He bursts out laughing, but when they stop at a motel a few hours later and he pins her against the inside of door of their room, neither of them is giggling anymore._

_It turns out that they’re headed for Chicago, and he’s even told her mother that they’d be gone for three days. Although she visited the city with her parents to see her future college, exploring it with Jonathan is a whole different matter. The visit is also loaded with meaning._

_The next time she comes here, he’ll be hundreds of miles away. Nevertheless, now he’s standing beside her, leaning on a railing overlooking the lake. He squints in the bright sunlight as he turns to look at her and as he smiles at her, she knows this is how she’ll remember him._

_“I like the city,” he confesses. Not once has he expressed disappointment in her decision._

_“I love you,” she replies, raising on her toes to kiss him. The breeze of the Windy City blows her hair around her head and he reaches to grasp the brown tendrils gently, twisting them around his fingers._

_They don’t talk about what’s going to happen in a few months, instead spending the day going through clothing, book, and record stores. Nancy can already tell which ones are bound to become her favorites._

_Why did she decide to stay in Chicago? It was reasonably close to home if something happened, but at the same time college was her first real opportunity to be truly independent. Her parents were not going to visit every weekend, she wasn’t going to go home every week, and she could only see Jonathan during the breaks. Her mom had never been on her own properly, not like this. This was something she had to do._

_She could achieve this in other places, like California, but somehow... Somehow it would feel wrong to go to a place where she and Barb were supposed to go together. New York was the same, really. A distant dream belonging to another life, another girl. Jonathan always tells her that she didn’t kill Barb, and sometimes she believes it. Other times she doesn’t. Those times she also believes that she hasn’t been punished. Jonathan had nothing to do with Barb’s death, but yet he reminds her of it. Not the same way Steve does, but still._

_If she wants to find out the truth about herself, she needs to do it in her own. The more she distances herself from everyone in Hawkins, the better. She hasn’t told any of this to Jonathan, because as great as he is, he wouldn’t understand. Despite the guilt he’s felt over the last few years, his actions haven’t caused anyone’s death. Sure, he knows what it’s like to carry an extra burden, but hers is darker and heavier._

_“Sometimes I still wonder if I’m doing the right thing, by going that far to college,” Jonathan says, as they lie in bed on their last night in Chicago._

_It took months for her and his mom to convince him to go. They all know it’s the right thing for him to do._

_“You know it is, and so do your mom and Will.”_

_“I think they’re just pretending to be okay with it, but in a way you being so close makes me feel a little better. You’re not responsible for my family, but I know if anything happens, you’ll be right in the middle of it. With your good aim.”_

_She laughs, although the sound is forced. Based on all the things Nancy now knows about Jonathan’s childhood, there have been times when his mom should’ve been on his side, should’ve fought for what was best for him. At first, she was afraid the same could apply to Jonathan’s only dream, the only thing both her and Joyce know he’s ever asked for. Jonathan would stay if his mom as much as hinted that it is what she wants, but no, nothing like that has ever been implied. Nancy’s proud of Joyce for that. She’s put Jonathan first, despite her own problems. Maybe having Hopper looking after her and Will has been the dealbreaker._

_“You’re forgetting the little detail that your mom’s dating the police chief.”_

_Jonathan groans._

_“I was hoping you wouldn’t remind me.”_

_Accepting Hopper has been hard for Jonathan. She guesses it would’ve been hard for any man to get his true approval, but with someone as bossy as the Chief, things haven’t been exactly smooth sailing._

_“He’s going to look after them, you know.”_

_“They could break up. Things didn’t work out for them when they were our age, why would they now?”_

_“People change. Your mom and Hopper aren’t the same people they were in high school.”_

_“People change then they’re teenagers, yeah, but as adults? I don’t know, Nancy. Can you really change that much?”_

_“So you don’t believe in second chances, then?”_

_“Maybe some people deserve them, but all I know is that my mom… She gave my dad too many ‘last chances’. I think sometimes the best thing we can do for ourselves is to let go.”_

***

Nancy’s quiet during the drive. There are so many questions he wants to ask her, but he tells himself to keep quiet. It may have been four years, but she is his weakness (if she wasn’t, he’d be sitting in his mom’s living room with Will instead of his car right now), and he doesn’t need to let her back in. The less he knows, the better.

“Do we need to stop for the night?” she asks suddenly.

“Yeah, I don’t want to risk falling asleep at the wheel.”

“All right.”

She doesn’t offer to drive, and he doesn’t suggest it. Dark streaks of mascara still stain her cheeks.  At least she changed out of that puffy wedding dress. It didn’t seem like her style at all, but what does he know? _He doesn’t know her anymore_ , he reminds himself.

Although he has at least a dozen questions, one of them is more pressing than all the others. _Are you sure you’re not going to want to go back tomorrow?_

 “You told your mom I was in the car.”

“Yeah… Sorry. You know how bad I am at lying, especially to her,” he replies.

“I know. What did she say?”

“She just asked me to tell you to call your mom.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

That is technically true, and there is no need for Nancy to know about the talk he had with his mother in the morning. _“Sometimes people don’t know what they want until several years have passed.”_

She’d been trying to convince him to attend the wedding with her and Will. He knows her words were meant to be an explanation for why Nancy got back together with Steve, and he nodded along as if he understood, and yet he couldn’t bury the last shreds of his feelings for her. _Does Nancy now think breaking up with Steve for the first time and getting with him in the first place was a mistake?_

“Tell me something.”

“Like what?”

“Anything about your life. What do you do in New York? Are you- are you seeing anyone? Things like that.”

“Freelance photography. Permanent jobs... They’re pretty hard to come by,” he sighs, wondering how to answer her other question. He’s been alone for a while now, and after two failed attempts at relationships, he’s not so sure if he shouldn’t just stay alone.

“I live alone,” he finally continues.

“That doesn’t really answer my question… But I get it. It’s none of my business, anyway.”

Jonathan clenches his teeth together. _How is it possible to both want to tell her everything and nothing at all at the same time?_ How both his relationships failed because they found him distant, how he never brought either one of them home to see his family, how much he kept secret from both of them. How he never let them all that close, because by now he’s learned that relationships are only temporary.

***

They get a double room at a seedy motel that reminds him of the one they stayed at years ago, before much of anything had happened between them. The memory feels like a knife twisting in his back, because he’s pushed all those details so far in the back of his mind. How he tried not to stare at her bare legs, revealed by the pink nightshirt. How much he wanted to say something once she’d turned away from him, clearly upset with him. How he was at a loss for words.

“Do you need a shower?” he asks when they reach their room, wiping his sweaty hands on his jeans.

“I could use one, but you go ahead first. I’ll call my parents.”

“Sure, take your time.”

He closes the bathroom door to give her some privacy. As he looks into the mirror, he takes note that the shadows under his eyes are more visible than on a normal day. He hasn’t slept in almost 48 hours, unable to reconcile with the fact that his and Nancy’s story would be truly over soon, although in all other ways it has been over for years. Every time he fell asleep, he saw her. They weren’t really dreams, but memories, which was worse. Back during his freshman year at NYU, whenever he was lonely and wished he could call Nancy, he’d lie in bed and imagine telling her whatever it was that was plaguing his mind. The things he couldn’t tell his mom or Will back then, and still wouldn’t. Eventually he grew used to not talking about certain things anymore. It was hardly new, since he’d been like that before Nancy.

She’s still sitting on the edge of the mattress, the receiver in hand when he returns from the bathroom.

“I don’t think I can do it,” she says.

“Call your mom?”

“Yeah.” She shakes her head. “I guess I’m scared of what she’ll inevitably say. That I’m an idiot, that there’s nothing for me in New York, how do I think I’m going to look after myself… And I can’t help but think that maybe… Maybe she’s right. But I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to go back.”

He sits down beside her and the way the mattress gives in under his weight is the loudest thing in the room.

“You probably think I’m insane,” she continues, turning slowly to face him. Her blue eyes meet his brown ones and Jonathan swallows. Maybe the way she makes him feel is something that will never change, no matter how much time passes.

“You’re not crazy at all, just lost,” he replies.

She flashes him a grateful smile and he hopes she finds her way in the city fast and no longer needs him around. Because as much as he’d like to think this is none of his business, it definitely feels like it, and it’s not good for him.

He listens to her breathing in the dark, unable to sleep. It doesn’t sound like she’s having any more luck than him. Nancy’s presence brings back so many memories, so many dreams. He used to think the might get a place together at some point, after college.

“Jonathan?” she calls out.

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“It was a long time ago.”

She did hurt him, but breakups are supposed to hurt. The one with Nancy still remains the most painful he’s had. Nevertheless, there was nothing unfair about it. She ended their relationship fair and square. No third parties. No ambiguity. Only heartache. At least for him. To this day, he doesn’t really know how she felt about him.

The news of her getting back with Steve last year raised more questions than answers.

“It may have been years ago, but I still did that and right now you’re the only person I can apologize to. So just accept it.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“It sure felt that way to me.”

Jonathan says nothing. Their breakup isn’t a topic he wants to discuss with her, at least not now. _Possibly never_. It’s not normal to still have feelings for an ex-girlfriend after four years. All of a sudden, he feels a flash of anger. _Why him?_ The longer he lives without her, the more things he’ll forget. Except that now she’s back in his life, no matter how temporarily and she can hurt him again.

 

 

 


	3. The New Home

_March 1985_

_Jonathan rarely has dreams of their dad these days, but for some reason he wakes up that night breathing hard, the sound of Lonnie's voice still echoing inside his head._

_You’re a pussy, Jonathan. You can’t even defend yourself._

_It wasn’t even a dream, but more like a flashback. Except that Nancy definitely wasn’t there when it took place. Why he imagined her there tonight is a mystery. In reality he woke up beside her in his own bed, managing to scare her in the process of course._

_”Jonathan? What’s wrong?” she asks sleepily._

_“Nothing. Sorry I woke you up.”_

_“Tell me about it," she asks, running her palm up and down his back._

_He leans back on the bed and her warm weight lands on his chest, by now familiar and real._

_“Just had a dream about my dad.”_

_“Did something happen yesterday? Did you talk about him?”_

_“I guess my mom was more freaked out than usual. Will was at the library with the others when they were all supposed to be at the arcade. She lost it completely when she couldn’t find them,” he admitted._

_Nancy wasn’t there to witness it, only having arrived later._

_“Wow. I’m sorry. Do you think she’s like that because of your dad?”_

_“Partly, at least. Of course it hasn’t helped that so much has happened to Will, but I wish... I wish she just let him be a normal kid. He doesn’t like admitting it, but I think her anxiety makes him anxious, too.”_

_“I’m sure it does.”_

_“And yet...”_

_“What?”_

_“Nothing. Just having a stupid and selfish thought.”_

_“Tell me. I’m sure it’s not stupid.”_

_“Sometimes I wish she’d paid that much attention to me, especially when I was younger. That she’d worried about me like that, too. But it’s never been like that. When my dad left for the first time, she locked herself in her bedroom for three days. We could hear her crying. She still took us to school, but forgot to pick me up. So I walked home. My birthday was only a few weeks after he left for good, and she forgot all about it. I was too happy my dad was gone to be really bothered by it, but still...”_

_“You’re not being stupid at all. Have you ever been angry with your mom?"_

_"There was a phase, when I was 14 or 15... But it waned pretty fast. I guess I realized that it wouldn't do any of us much good. I mean, he was gone for good by then. I knew we could make things work, as long as I didn't make things harder. She's always done her best, for both me and Will. I understand her, Nance. She ended up putting most of her resources on the son that wasn't damaged goods-"_

_"You're not damaged goods, Jonathan."_

_He gives her a sad smile, which she probably can't see._

_"I kind of am. I can't change what happened to me, I'll have to make do with the cards I've been dealt. Will got a better deal, and I'd like to think it's partly because of me."_

_"It is. But you have every right to be angry with your mom, too. She hasn't always been fair to you. I like her a lot, but she should've protected you._   _"_

_"She was younger, she didn't know what she was getting into with my dad. Not for real."_

_"Still!"_

_"Nancy-"_

_"You're too good for your own good, Jonathan."_

_"I love you," he whispers against her lips._

_"And I'm very glad you do," she sighs, reaching down to pull his shirt over his head._

_The rest of the world disappears from around them as usual, the horrors his dad put them all through fading into the background. Except for that nagging voice in his head that says none of this is truly meant for him._

 ***

 

_July 1990_

Nancy gets her first glimpse of New York City the next afternoon, and she finds herself grinning like an idiot. She's really there. 

"You like it here, right?" she asks Jonathan, still in awe of how different this legendary city is from anything else she's ever seen.

"Yup. I think-" he starts, but then decides against it.

"You think what?"

"I think you'll like it, too," he says. "At least I hope so. Since you've come this far, I mean. You gave up a pretty good life."

"You think so?"

"Financial security isn't meaningless."

She bites into her lip. Jonathan would know what he's talking about, but she can't help but be annoyed. He used to be so against the kind of life she would've lived with Steve, and yet now he's saying these things.

"So you think I should've stayed?"

"I didn't say that, Nancy. But I'd rather not make assumptions about what you want... I used think I had you all figured out after all, and I was wrong," he says and although his tone isn't angry or even bitter, it makes her want to apologize to him again. 

The awkward silence in the car doesn't end until they reach Brooklyn and Jonathan parks the car.

"I live a few blocks from here," he explains. 

Nancy misses most of what's going on around them over their short walk to his apartment. There's so much to look at. So many people she'd never encounter in Hawkins, so many tiny shops. Jonathan points out the nearest grocery store.

"I'll let you inside and then I'll come and get us something to eat," he says.

She nods.

"I'll try calling my mom again."

The apartment building smells funny, like a mix of cigarette smoke, old garbage and insecticide. There's no elevator, so they drag their bags all the way to the 3rd floor through the staircase. A door opens on the second landing and an old woman peers out, her eyes meeting Nancy's. She mutters something unintelligible, but pulls back into her own apartment.

"It's really not much, but you're welcome to stay as long as you need," he murmurs as they step inside apartment number 33.

The place is small, with only a somewhat reasonably sized kitchen, a living area and an alcove for a bed, with a tiny bathroom beside the door. 

"Uh, you can take the bed and I'll take the pull-out in the living room. Will usually sleeps there when he's visiting," rambles Jonathan.

"No... This is your place. I'll take the couch. I insist," she answers, making sure to look him in the eye until he nods.

"All right, if you're sure."

Jonathan's out the door again before she's had time to do more than lay her bag on the couch.  _Is he so eager to get away from her?_

Taking a deep breath, she locates the phone and starts dialing the familiar numbers of her childhood home phone.

"Hi Mom, it's me," she forces out, clearing her throat.

"Nancy! My God, where are you?"

"I'm in New York. With Jonathan."

"You can't possibly be serious."

The hurt in her at the tone of her mother's voice disappears only to be replaced by anger and defiance. She's 22 years old. An  _adult,_ and her mom's talking to her as if she's still 15.

"Well, I am."

"What do you think you're doing?" her mom hisses.

"Doing what I should've done a long time ago. Look, Mom, I only called so that you wouldn't be worried. I don't want a lecture. This is my life."

"You left Steve at the altar, with half of the town watching! You can't think your actions don't have consequences!"

"That's between me and Steve, okay?"

"He's been worried sick about you. You have no idea."

"I'll call him later."

"And your father is livid."

"Tell me something I couldn't have predicted myself," she replies, sighing. Of course her dad's upset, after all he spent a lot of money on a wedding that never happened.

"You need to apologize, Nancy."

And she will. To Steve.

"To you? Or to Dad?"

"To everyone."

"No."

"Nancy-"

"You've based your entire life on the lie that you love Dad and that your little life in a cozy suburban housewife's made you happy! Don't you dare come and tell me what to do with mine!" she yells, regretting raising her voice immediately when Jonathan's next door neighbor bangs on the wall.

"This is not about  _me_!" her mom yells back, and for a moment Nancy can hear herself in twenty years in that voice. Or the version of herself that she would've been destined to become if she'd gone through with the ceremony.

"No, it really isn't. It's about  _me_. I can't marry Steve. I don't want to spend my life in Hawkins."

"You have no college degree and no job, how are you going to make it in New York?"

"I'll figure something out. Get a job. An apartment."

"What does Jonathan think about you taking advantage of his good nature?"

She feels her face redden in both embarrassment and anger.

"I'm not taking advantage of Jonathan," she says through gritted teeth, glad that Jonathan's still out getting groceries.

"You're staying in his apartment, right?"

"For now."

"And you have no way of supporting yourself."

"I will, soon."

"Be careful, Nancy. You've already hurt one young man, there's no need to hurt him, too."

She can't think of a good enough comeback. Maybe because deep down she knows this is something her mom just might be right about. She never sets out to hurt anyone, but yet it's already happened more than once. She's toxic. At least to both Steve and Jonathan.

"I'll call you again when I've settled in," she says quietly, setting the phone back in its cradle.  _How can a single phone call leave her this emotionally drained?_  And now she needs to make another one.

It's embarrassing that she has to check her address book to get the number of the place she should be inhabiting as Mrs. Harrington. After nearly six months of living together, she still doesn't know the number by heart, and now she probably never will. There's no need. The thought is sad but relieving at the same time.

Steve picks up after three rings.

"Hello?"

"Steve... It's Nancy."

She can hear him sigh on the other end, and wishes she could be done with just a few words.  _I'm sorry Steve, goodbye._

"Did you ever, at any point, love me?" he asks point-blank.

"Steve-"

"Answer me."

"I wanted to. I really did. Both back when we were in high school, and now. But I'm just... I'm not that girl, Steve. I never was, and I never will be."

"I wanted to think you'd changed, when you came back to Hawkins."

"I had, but not like that."

"I knew you were unhappier than ever, but I guess I didn't know why, or what to do about it."

"I'm sorry, Steve."

"I don't want to stretch this out or anything, but can I ask for one thing, Nance?"

"Of course," she replies without thinking, eager to be done with this call.

"No matter what you do- don't,  _please_  don't- get back with Jonathan. Look, I know I'm being an asshole for asking for this, but as the guy you dumped at the altar with no explanation, I feel like I have to do anything I can to try to preserve some of my dignity and feelings."

She's too stunned at his request to say anything. She doesn't think Jonathan would ever consider taking her back and she's hardly planning on anything like that, but the wrongness of the request still feels like a knife in the back. 

"It won't happen," she says softly.

"Good... Well, I guess this is it, then. I hope you find whatever it is that you're looking for in life," he says.

"I hope you find that, too," she answers.

After ending the call, she sits on the couch, staring at the empty TV screen in front of her without really seeing it until Jonathan's key turns in the door and he comes in, carrying three bags of food.

"Wow, are you sure you haven't invited more people over?" she asks, standing up to help him put the food away.

Jonathan chuckles.

"I'm sure. I was out of most of the basic ingredients anyway, so I stocked up a little more. Did you make the calls?"

Nancy nods.

"I did."

"And how was it?"

"Hard."

He nods back.

"We don't have to talk about it."

Nancy smiles at him gratefully, although she's not sure if he's saying these things because he doesn't want to get any closer to her than necessary rather than to spare her the pain of reliving it. 

They don't talk about it, but instead he cooks a delicious, creamy pasta that makes her mouth water. With the TV blasting a sitcom in the background while they eat, it's actually pretty cozy. They never lived together, but back when she thought that one day they would, she imagined a place like this. Maybe with a tidier environment, but nevertheless. Comfy, if cramped.  _Don't get too comfortable here_ , she tells herself. Jonathan's home is an intermediate station for her, a place to move forward from. She's going to pay him back for his kindness, and not overstay her welcome. 

 ***

Everything is fine enough until they turn off the lights. Nancy pulls her legs to her chest, trying to stop herself from shaking. The tears come in the darkness, she can't stop them, and as she hears the rustle of sheets from the alcove, she knows she's not allowing Jonathan to sleep, either. His footsteps reach the couch and he turns on the tiny reading light on the side table. They both squint at the light source, but she faces him nevertheless. He looks both worried and wary.

"I'm okay," she sobs.

"No, you're not. And it's okay."

Sitting down beside her, Jonathan places a tentative hand on her shoulder. Something inside her breaks, making her sobs harder.

"Hey, hey," he tries to soothe her without really touching her, but she's too far gone. He stiffens when she leans into him, but soon enough she finds herself wrapped tightly in his arms. 


	4. The Truth, part I

_April 1988_

_"Nance?"_

_"Yeah?"_

_"Have you ever been in love?" asks Jill, taking another swig from their shared bottle of vodka. They go to parties together sometimes, but their post-party binges are only meant for the two of them._

_She considers her answer, not because she doesn't know, but because this is probably something she should've told Jill a long time ago. This girl's supposed to be her best friend now, after all._

_"Once," she whispers, and lets herself be transported back into a time filled with stolen moments of passion, of Jonathan's sweet crooked smiles and some kind of ridiculous eternal optimism that somehow it'd all turn out fine. It hurts. It hasn't turned out great for her at least. Her grades are in the dumpster and she can feel her dream of becoming a journalist slipping further with every single passing day while her paranoia grows. There's nobody to talk to about these things. The less Jill or any of her friends know about Hawkins or anyone there, the better. Especially Jonathan. She feels like keeping him to herself, and not just for his safety, but because she is selfish._

_"With Tony?" asks Jill, her words slightly slurred._

_Nancy nearly rolls her eyes. Tony is... Nothing like Jonathan, and their relationship is nothing like what she had with him. It's almost a sacrilege to even think of them in the same sentence. Tony is a stage prop, but then again he's aware of that, and neither one of them wants things to get serious._

_She shakes her head. "No. Someone from home. We broke up before I came to Chicago."_

_"Where is he now?"_

_"He goes to NYU."_

_"You ever miss him?"_

_"Why are you asking all these questions?"_

_"Because I've never been in love... At least I don't think so. So I think you're lucky."_

_Nancy keeps quiet in order to avoid letting her carefully constructed wall break. When she turns to look at her friend a few minutes later, she realizes Jill has passed out._

_"Every day," she admits, although there's no one there to hear her confession._

_Nancy remembers squeezing the steering wheel of her mother’s car with clammy hands the night Jonathan left for New York, ready to pull out of the driveway. But something kept her back that night, and eventually the windows fogged as she began to cry. She didn't_ _follow him, and this was their ending. This was the way it had to be._

_Things had been much harder ever since she’d entered her dorm room to find her box of important keepsakes sitting on top of the comforter about a year ago. The photos of her and Barb were gone, simply taken, as was the “best friends” bracelet she’d gotten from Barb. Jonathan had been cut out of their photos, and the faces of her parents and siblings had been blackened in the family pictures. To get their point across, her unwanted visitor had left a note in the box. Only two words, underlined twice, written using the same black marker that had been used to smear her family’s faces._

Stay away.

_It was a warning, that much was obvious. Maybe it was because she’d decided to major in journalism. If she crossed the government again, the people she loved would pay. Murray Bauman is pretty much a hermit for what she guessed was the same reason. Finding her privacy violated like this made her so angry that her entire body shook. She wanted to fight someone, but there was nobody around. She wanted to call Jonathan, but her phone could be tapped, especially after the visit. She didn’t even have his address to send a letter. Sure, she could ask for his phone number or address, but both their phones could be bugged (hers most definitely had to be), it somehow felt like an intrusion, and when it came to him, she found herself becoming a coward. Not to mention that he wouldn't have been on the government's naughty list if it wasn't for her. The whole thing had been her idea, and she hadn't thought about the consequences. How could she live with it if something happened to Jonathan or his family, when they'd done nothing but try to heal from their ordeal and stick together?_

_The stupid, naive teenager in her is gone now._

***

July 1990

Jonathan wakes up, his mouth full of hair. It takes a half a minute for him to re-orient himself, to realize that he's got Nancy's back against his chest, his head buried in her hair. It's been a long time since he last woke up like this, and a part of him wants to relive the memory by staying there for a little while longer, but his common sense wins out and he carefully disentangles himself from her. Luckily she doesn't seem to be awake, as his body's reacting to the familiar setup which often led to nearly being late for work or breakfast. He also wants to think it's mostly because he hasn't had sex for... Jesus, he can't even be sure how long it's been. Either way, right now it's massively inappropriate and awkward and he prays he can make it stop happening around Nancy. It's a complication this uncomfortable situation needs the least. 

She doesn't stir until he's got the eggs nearly done and the toast waiting to be heated. Nancy's sleepy smile makes his heart skip a beat. _She used to smile at him like that all the time._

"Morning," he says.

"Morning. Sorry I slept in, I'm the one who should be making you breakfast," she replies, running her hand through her messy hair.

"I think we both know it's better this way," he jokes. 

Nancy sticks her tongue out at him and he laughs. It's almost like old times.

"When do you have to work?" she asks.

"Not until tomorrow. A wedding in Long Island," he explains, wondering if discussing weddings is something he should avoid for now, but she doesn't seem too bothered about it.

"Sounds nice."

"So, if you want to, I could show you around a little more today."

"I'd like that. I also need to get started on finding a job."

He nods. 

"And I can ask around, see if there are any openings."

"Thank you... And thank you for last night. You didn't have to do that for me."

"Well, we can still be friends, right?" he asks, his voice a tad higher than normal. They were friends before anything happened between them, so why couldn't they go back to that? And yet somehow the suggestion sounds hollow in his head. Insincere. Which is why he times his words carefully to speak only when he's got his back turned to her and his face hidden in one of the cupboards, pulling out plates.

Nancy and his mom are still the strongest people he's ever known, so seeing her break down the way he has for the last couple of days and especially last night has been an unnerving and strange experience. He wishes he knew more, wishes he understood exactly what's made her like this, what drove her into moving back to Hawkins and almost marrying Steve. Why she's now there with him.  

"I really hope so," she answers quietly.

He remembers her explanations. _Relationships like this never make it. It’s better this way. I’d rather break up now face-to-face than have that awkward moment on the phone._

That was what she said, but what he heard was _‘You’re not good enough, no matter how hard you try.’_ At the time all his fears of never being good enough helped him understand her. Back then he was so sure that Nancy Wheeler was meant for greatness, and he kind of still feels that way, and yet, right now... It’s like the tables have been turned. He’s the one with the apartment, the degree, the job. Not that it pays particularly well (it really doesn’t, but he gets to do what he loves) or that he’s all that successful, but still. This is new. This is not how it's supposed to be.

Later, he reads the paper while Nancy showers. There are a few job advertisements she might be into, and he's about to suggest she read them as the bathroom door clicks shut after her, but when he looks at her, he suddenly is no longer capable of intelligent thought. She's wearing an old sweater of his. Seeing his surprise, she looks down at herself and seems to realize the same thing.

"I, uh, grabbed pretty much everything I had at my parents'... I didn't know-"

"It's all right. It fits you better anyway," he answers, shrugging. As if it's nothing. 

They leave the apartment, and he eventually relaxes, deciding to show her his favorite spots, as well as the ones he's always thought she'd like. After spending four years in the city, it's nice to play tourist for a day.

"I can't believe those lines," she grumbles when they finally get to the top of the Empire State Building.

"Yeah, you could fit the entire population of Hawkins there, and then some."

Nancy takes her time, stopping at to look in every direction. The sea's always been his favorite, its shimmering surface reflecting the rays of the sun, with airplanes approaching the airports just southeast of them. 

"I like this the best," she murmurs. 

Of course she would. 

"Me, too."

"Thanks for bringing me here, Jonathan."

"You need to stop thanking me."

"I'll do that when I can give you more than that, like half of the rent."

"You'll find your place here," he says, trying to reassure her.

"I'm not sure what I'll do if I don't, to be honest- and don't tell me that I can always go back to Hawkins. It's not an option anymore," she tells him, shaking her head.

"Okay. I won't say it. But your family loves you, Nancy." 

She raises her brows at him.

"I'm an embarrassment now, especially to my dad."

"Nancy-"

" _Don't_ , Jonathan, _please_ don't. Let's not ruin a perfectly nice day with this topic."

"Okay... But there actually is something you could give me, other than thanks," he says, hoping that a little prodding won't make her shut him out completely. There's no way he's going to get all the answers at once, but maybe with time... Maybe he can understand.

"And what would that be?"

"Some answers."

"Ask me, then."

It's not hard to pick the question he most wants answered, but he knows what it'd sound like if he asked her that (which would be desperate), so he starts out easy.

"Why did you drop out of college?"

Nancy blinks at him. It probably isn't the question she expected to hear.

"You don't know?" she asks in return, lowering her voice so much it's hard to hear her.

"How would I? I haven't talked to you since-"

"They didn't send you a message? They haven't harrassed you at all?" she hisses hurriedly, almost angrily.

It takes him a few seconds to figure out who she means, but then he gets it. 

"No! I haven't heard anything. What did they do to you?" he whispers back, taking her hands into his, his old protectiveness over her rearing its head again. It doesn't matter that they're in a public place and this really isn't a good topic to discuss there.

She stares down at their hands and he thinks she's going to pull away at any second, but she doesn't. Instead Nancy lifts her gaze, her blue eyes wet, the look in them sad, angry and defeated. _They did this to her._

"Someone broke into my dorm room and found all my keepsakes... Destroyed them, stole some of them. They made it clear that it wouldn't be me who they'd target next, but the people close to me."

He draws her close, and she comes willingly, burying her head in the crook of his neck. It's hard to believe that Nancy of all people, who would stop at nothing to reveal the truth, could be scared so thoroughly that she'd quit her studies entirely. 

"I won't let them get to you," he vows, swallowing hard. He's not sure what possessed him to voice that thought and hell, it's hardly something he can even promise (and then there's the fact that she's always been the one to protect him, not the other way around), but he says it anyway, and he means it. 

Jesus. He's so screwed, but he wouldn't have it any other way.


	5. The Status Quo

_December, 1989_

_"What time will you be here tomorrow?" asks his mom._

_"Maybe around lunch. I don't know, Mom, there might be heavy traffic on the way."_

_"You'll drive safely, won't you? The weather's getting worse by the hour."_

_"Don't worry. I can't wait to see everyone," Jonathan admits._

_"And we can't wait to see you!"_

_"See you tomorrow-"_

_"Hang on, honey... There's something I think you should know."_

_"What?"_

_His mother stammers._

_"Nancy and Steve... They're back together, and Karen says she thinks it serious this time. That this is it."_

_He nods before realizing she can't see it. What she means is that Karen Wheeler thinks this is when Nancy will settle down, get married and have that same middle class suburban life which she hated so much only a few years earlier._

_"All right... Uh. Well, I hope they're happy together."_

_"Jonathan..."_

_"What? Mom, it's been over three years. What Nancy does isn't any of my business."_

_"Maybe, but you can tell me if you feel bad about it. I know how much you love-"_

_"Loved. Past tense."_

_"Fine, loved her. It's not easy to see that person with someone else, especially with another ex."_

_"It means nothing to me."_

_The truth is that he shouldn't care, but yet it stings._

_Two days later he's back in Hawkins, grocery shopping for his mom, when he sees them. Suddenly he's 17 again, looking at the girl of his dreams with another guy. It only serves to add to the injury that it's the same fucking guy. Jonathan learned long ago that while Steve's far from a villain, they're still not friends. Never were, never have been and never will be. They're just too different. One of them is apparently perfectly comfortable with a life in Hawkins, while the city has felt suffocating to him for years. The feeling has only ever been alleviated by his family and... Yeah. Nancy._

_It's as if she can feel he's watching her because she begins to turn, and like the coward he is, he ducks behind the nearest shelf. A part of him wants to confront her- alone of course- ask her why she's not in college anymore, and how can she be with Steve after everything the two of them shared. Was it all a lie, was he a replacement for Steve, or was it the other way around? And could it still be the other way around? If he told her he still loved her and wanted her back, would she push him away? Was this new thing with Steve just as big of a deception as the first round?_

_As a teenager, he’d always kind of wonder if Nancy was happy with Steve. Well, until they broke up and suddenly he'd found himself in bed with her. Now he wonders the same thing. He wonders what she’d do if he confronted her, asked her. Is this what she wants now? Some mediocre suburbian life in Hawkins with Steve? She should still be in college, for God's sake. Was it longing for Steve that made her drop out? Somehow he can't bring himself to believe that._

_He only realizes it when he’s back in the car, on his way to his childhood home. He hasn’t thought about his girlfriend since he laid eyes on Nancy and Steve. His girlfriend, Chloe, who’s been begging him to let her in for months, to open up to her. And mere minutes ago he was actually considering approaching his ex girlfriend. Hell, maybe even kissing her. What the hell is wrong with him? You’d think that after so many years, he’d have truly moved on from her, and yet she has this hold on him, no matter what he does._

_Nancy still remains the only girlfriend he’s ever introduced to his family. They’re not normal, and he’s just not sure how many girls would accept that. So it’s been easier to keep them in New York, and his family in Hawkins, except for some of the holidays, when Will has gladly stayed with him. There are so many things he hasn't explained to Chloe (or to anyone else he's talked to in New York), and he knows he never will._

_How does one go about telling their totally clueless partner that sometimes they believe they're being followed by a white van or a man in a suit? As if there aren't at least hundreds of thousands of both in New York City anyway! But it's the truth. Sometimes he thinks he sees something in the corner of his eye, but when he turns to look, it's gone. Nobody's ever approached him, and according to his family, nothing strange has happened for years. They haven't even had the guts to try to talk to El. So Jonathan's figured that as long as he does nothing (and he hasn't had much of a reason to do anything), he will most likely be left alone. They would maintain status quo. And that's assuming he's not just a paranoid freak. He's not interested in doing much digging on his own, as long as they stay away from his family. It's always been Nancy who insisted on investigating no matter what. A part of him is ashamed that he doesn't have her bravery, or at least not anymore. Now it's all about surviving in a big city and maybe being able to do what he loves for a living, and even that's far from guaranteed._

***

September, 1990

"Nancy, would you take these to table ten, please?"

"Sure."

"And by the way, your boyfriend's back again. I'll get to his order next."

"He's still not my-"

Nancy's colleague Jamie rolls her eyes.

"Fine, be that way then. But the guy sits here almost every day for at least a while."

"Jonathan's an old friend and my roommate. He just likes the place."

"And a certain waitress."

"Let's not get into this."

"Okay, okay. We can do it when you come to my birthday party next week. Remember? Friday night at eight? Girls only!"

"I'll be there."

Nancy's job search ended up being short, as a coffee shop a few blocks away from their- _Jonathan's_  apartment happened to be looking for help. After only a few weeks at the job, she's managed to gain at least one new friend, and no longer needs to rely on Jonathan's good will to keep a roof above her head and some food in her stomach. 

And it is true that Jonathan sits there often enough. He claims it's nothing new, that he's always been fond of the place, but Jamie says different. The blush on Jonathan's cheeks that follows every time she questions him about it would definitely hint at him not being entirely truthful. Still, Jonathan often goes unnoticed by people. He likes to sit at a corner table, reading a book, or mumbling to himself about his newest photos, marking down which ones to show to his clients.

When it's not too busy, Nancy likes to watch him. How his entire body focuses on the task at hand, how he chews on the cap of the marker, that sometimes his knee bounces up and down. Sometimes she thinks he knows she's watching, and turns his head. They share a smile, and she goes on doing whatever menial task it is that she's supposed to be doing at the time. There's something about watching him that brings her peace. Like she's _home_ with him. It isn't something she likes to dwell on, however, because she knows this is all temporary. Who knows if they'll even be on speaking terms a year from now? It's not a crazy thought, but it still makes a painful lump form in her throat. Then there's the matter of the promise she made to Steve. Not that she's ready for a committed relationship with anyone right now, but she doesn't like unfinished business, which there definitely is between her and Jonathan.

A few minutes later, she gets to hand Jonathan his coffee and blueberry muffin.

"Hey," he greets. "When are you getting off?"

"Seven, but I noticed that we're out of milk, coffee and eggs, so I'll get them when I get out." Especially since it's mostly her fault they're out of those things.

"We can go together. I- I need to get these photos sorted anyway, and I can focus better when I'm not at home."

"Okay."

***

It all feels surprisingly domestic. They argue over which brand of yogurt to get, and eventually he lets her win and picks up her favorite banana yogurt from the fridge. 

Nancy leaves him for a minute and goes to grab the eggs, returning to find Jonathan talking to a redheaded stranger.

“Hey, here are the eggs,” she says a little breathlessly.

The girl shoots her a curious but not malevolent glance and smiles. Jonathan’s shoulders are hunched and he looks about to bolt, which is when Nancy gets it. _This must be an ex._  The girl looks... Nothing like her, actually. If she had to pick out Jonathan's ex-girlfriend from a crowd of a dozen girls, this one probably wouldn't have been her choice. Nancy herself feels rather average beside her. After all, she doesn't have a nose piercing... Or tattoos on her arms. And she doesn't wear band t-shirts. 

“Hi, I’m Nancy,” she greets the girl, extending a hand.

The girl takes it and shakes.

“I know who you are. I’m Chloe,” she replies, an amused smile still on her lips.

Nancy turns to Jonathan, raising her brows slightly.

“I’d love to know what you’ve heard about me.”

“Oh, nothing much. Jonathan wasn’t exactly forthcoming, but I saw a photo of you. How are you in New York, if you don’t mind me asking? Are you visiting?”

“It’s kind of a long story. But I’m here to stay, and Jonathan’s been nice enough to let me stay at his place.”

“Well, isn’t that friendly.”

“Umm, Nancy, we should get going,” says Jonathan, begging her with his eyes. As much as she likes to see him squirm, she relents with a sigh.

“All right. It was great meeting you, Chloe.”

“I’ll see you two around!”

“Or not,” mutters Jonathan under his breath.

“So... She's an ex-girlfriend?” she starts, hoping her tone sounds light.

“Yeah.”

“Why did you break up?”

“She said I was too distant.”

“Did you love her?” 

It's an intimate question she really has no place asking anymore, but it just flies out of her mouth. Jonathan stops walking and leans on the nearest shelf, sighing.

“I don’t know," he answers.

She's somewhat surprised by his honesty, but then again, Jonathan's always been an honest guy, even if he hasn't always made his true feelings known. 

"In that case I think you didn't," she replies. "I know I'm the last person on earth who should be talking about this, but in the last couple of months I've finally figured that if you don't know the answer to that question, the answer is most likely no."

Jonathan nods.

"Sounds reasonable to me."

The unspoken words between them hang heavily in the room. " _But I know I loved you."_

Nancy doesn't know which one of them should utter them first, so they're left unsaid.

***

Another week passes and the day of Jamie's birthday bash has arrived. Nancy hogs the bathroom to prepare herself, starting with a shower. All of a sudden, there's a spurt of water coming from who knows where, and she screams. The water's gone ice cold. She tries to shut the water, but it keeps on coming. Something must be broken.

"Are you all right in there?" asks Jonathan, his voice right outside the door.

"You have a leaky pipe and all I'm getting is cold water," she explains to him as her teeth begin to chatter.

"I'll have a look at it if you let me in."

Nancy grabs a towel and opens the door, careful to stay away from the frigid spray.

"Wow," mutters Jonathan under his breath as he snags a cloth they use to clean the apartment, and tries to use it to subdue the leak.

"That's not helping," she offers, realizing how stupid she must sound.

"No, but it's not like I'm going to get a plumber here right this second, right? Can you go to the kitchen and shut down the main valve for the apartment? I don't see what else we can go at this point."

She finds the valve beneath the sink and turns it.

"Did it work?" she asks.

"Yup!"

As she gets back into the bathroom, she finally releases the breath she's been holding. Jonathan's standing in front of the showerhead, his hair and sweater completely soaked, but there's no longer water spurting anywhere. 

"Good job, Plumber Byers," she jokes, reaching for her clothes.

The floor is still slippery, and Nancy loses her footing, which brings her crashing down. She expects to hit the tiled floor, but instead it's Jonathan's chest underneath her. 

"Careful there," he murmurs.

She reaches out to place a hand on his cheek. It’s slightly damp from the sprayed water. Her Jonathan. Suddenly he grabs onto her wrist.

“Nancy, please don’t,” he begs.

She nods.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me.”

“It’s ok.”

She unlocks it for him, and realizes he's made an effort to style his hair and is wearing what is probably his nicest sweater, although he's probably going to have to change out of it now. _Where is he going?_ Jonathan speaks before she can ask.

"Uh, Nancy... I was wondering if you wanted to come and hang out with me and some college buddies later tonight," he says, clearly considering every word. Nancy wonders what it means that he hasn't bothered to introduce her to his friends until this. _Isn't she his friend, too?_ Even if she didn't have Jamie's birthday party to attend, she'd still be upset enough to say no. She can't believe she nearly kissed him only moments ago.

"Sorry, but I'm going to Jamie's birthday party. You know Jamie from the coffee shop?"

"Tall girl? Braids?" he asks to confirm, squinting to remember. 

Nancy nods.

"That'd be her."

"Well, have fun... But if you decide to leave early, we'll be at the Turquoise Trumpet. It's on Berry Street. And I'll call the landlord about the shower."

***

Jamie, some of her college classmates and the rest of their female colleagues from the coffee shop are fun to be around, but Nancy's not really in the mood to celebrate. _Why in the hell is she letting Jonathan ruin her party mood, when he's not even present?  To hell with him, and all other men._ So she chugs back one drink after another to lift her spirits.

"Woah, girl, no offence, but I think you're going a bit too fast there," says Jamie, reaching out for her newest glass, which is now only half-filled.

"It's your birthday, but stay out of this," replies Nancy.

"I just don't want to send you home early, Nancy!" she answers, throwing her hands up in defeat.

Fortunately, Nancy's not as stupid as she once used to be, and slows down her alcohol intake in time. There's no sense in getting too wasted and risk getting mugged (or worse) in a strange neighborhood, especially since she's barely been in New York for two months. Thoughts of Jonathan out with his friends plague her. If maybe there's some girl among them that he likes, and if that's the reason he hasn't let her meet them. Jonathan does spend some evenings out, so he could be hooking up with someone and she'd be none the wiser. Eventually she can't take it anymore. She has to go and see for herself.

"Sorry, Jamie, but I should get going. I'm feeling a little sick, to be honest, might be coming down with something."

"Oh, no. Well, get better soon, and let that cute 'room mate' of yours look after you."

Nancy rolls her eyes even as Jamie winks at her.

 ***

The walk to the Turquoise Trumpet isn't long, but also not short enough not to make her skin crawl, much like the way it often did in Chicago when she was out alone at night. As if she's not as alone as she thinks. She looks around, but there are barely even any cars driving by, and nothing looks suspicious. Taking a deep breath, she trudges on. There's a band playing at the club when Nancy enters. They're actually not bad for some kind of an acoustic rock band, but she still can't seem to spot Jonathan anywhere. Maybe he went home already. _Or someplace else with a girl..._

Her eyes scan the crowd again, but it's not until she pays a customary glance at the band that she gets it. _What the-_ Jonathan is playing the guitar. And he's not bad. Nancy makes her way to the small stand to see better, and can't help but notice a half a dozen doe-eyed teenagers gawking at the band. A couple of them have their eyes on Jonathan. He can't see them, though, as his eyes are currently on her. His mouth curves into a smile at the sight of her, and despite her anger and resentment, she returns it. _Why does he have to keep secrets from her?_

Jonathan, who used to go unseen by almost everyone, is no longer invisible. Not that he's the most dominant of the band, but he doesn't fade into the background anymore. He _has_ changed.

The band finishes after another song, and Jonathan jumps off the stage to steer her to a side table.

"Hey, good to see you. I thought you wouldn't come," he says, pulling out a chair for her.

"I wasn't supposed to. And you're not supposed to know how to play the guitar," she whispers back as his friends join them.

"We can talk about that later," he murmurs. 

Just then, the teenagers Nancy saw staring at the band minutes earlier, approach the table. There's a rather pretty blonde, dressed in all black, who's basically drooling over Jonathan. Luckily Nancy isn't seated yet, and unceremoniously plants herself into his lap. The look on the girl's face makes her want to grin. _That's right, honey. Stay away from him._

"Woah, Nancy? What- what are you doing?" asks Jonathan, wriggling his hips underneath her. Despite the effort, she can feel the bulge in his pants. 

"Helping you," she replies, wriggling her own hips to tease him. It's an awful idea, but _God, it feels so good._

"Doesn't feel like it," he gasps, swiftly wrapping an arm around her waist to still her. She likes this, too. It's almost as nice as teasing him.

"Why don't you introduce me to your friends?"

“Sure. Uhh, everyone, this is Nancy.”

The others flash her friendly smiles.

“And this is Dave, Adam, Joe and his girlfriend Kristen.”

“Are you all college buddies?”

“More or less. Not all of us have Jonathan’s photography skills, though," says Dave.

"I didn't know he played the guitar," she admits, eliciting a laugh from the boys.

"He photographed my sister's wedding, and I promised to teach him the basics in return," reveals Dave.

"Well, playing an instrument... It wasn't something I had the chance to do as a kid."

Because of the money. Of course. And that would've probably made Jonathan's dad even more insistent that there was something wrong with him.

Nancy ends up liking the rest of the band. They're all easy-going and not too pushy. She's been more or less a hermit ever since she got back to Hawkins, only associating with her family and Steve. She'd almost forgotten how exhilarating it is to make new friends.

When she scrambles to her feet to go to the bathroom, she gives Jonathan's knee a covert squeeze as she gets up from his lap, relishing the sharp intake of breath she hears. 

Minutes later, Jonathan is standing outside the men’s bathroom when she emerges from the women’s side.

“Those girls were dying to be all over you,” she tells him, irrational jealousy seeping into her drunken voice. 

“Oh really? What girls?” he chuckles.

“As if you didn’t realize it.”

He shrugs.

“I’m not looking for anyone, so it wouldn't matter anyway.”

"Why aren't you looking? There's nothing wrong with you."

Jonathan sighs.

"Do we really have to have this talk here and now? You're pretty drunk."

"I know, but I want to knooooowww."

He gives in.

"I can't make anyone happy," he replies quietly.

That stops Nancy in her tracks, clearing her pleasantly buzzing head for a moment.

"That's not true at all," she insists, grabbing onto his shirt.

"All evidence points to the contrary, Nance," he mumbles gently.

Maybe she does it because she's drunk, but that doesn't meant she wants it any less. Her lips crash against his while her arms wrap around his neck.

She’s more alive than ever, his hands underneath her thighs, holding her up against the wall, his mouth on hers. She feels him hardening between her legs and squirms to tease him.

He moans, but then pulls away, panting.

“This is a colossally bad idea,” he sighs.

“I know.”

“Not that I still don’t want it, but-“

“I get it, Jonathan. We probably shouldn't make things too complicated.”

"Exactly."

Jonathan is safety, security, the anchor in her current chaos. She knows one day she'll have to let go of him, but does that mean she can't do what she wants if it's what he wants, too? One day there will be other people for both of them, but now she needs him. The need gnaws at her insides, has been for some time. If she claims it's nothing more than lust, she's lying, so she doesn't. It's more than that. But nothing that can turn into a romantic relationship.

After saying their goodbyes, they walk to Jonathan's place in silence, the easy-going mood now replaced by unresolved tension. Nevertheless, she knows they're going to go to bed and not talk about it. _That's always been their thing, hasn't it?_

There's no showering as the plumber still hasn't fixed the pipe, so Nancy simply changes into her nightshirt in the bathroom and brushes her teeth. Jonathan's already in bed, his back turned to her, when she comes back. 

Tossing and turning on the pullout couch, Nancy hears his sighs, and makes the decision for both of them. Well, unless he throws her out of his bed, but she doesn’t think he will.

Slowly, she gets up and walks to the alcove. He hears her and shifts on the bed to face her.

“Nancy.”

“Shhh.”

She kisses him first, but his enthusiastic response tells her it’s been on his mind just as much. As soon as she gets her nightshirt off, his mouth is on her chest.

“Jonathan,” she moans when his lips close around one of her nipples.

He takes his time re-acquainting himself with her body, until she reaches down to take him in her hand. His breath hitches and a growl leaves him at her touch.

Jonathan's lean body looks beautiful in the dim light coming from the street, as it arches off the bed in time with her strokes. The boxers are pushed down easily enough, and Nancy pins him down to take control. She wants him in her mouth first.

Moving down, she grasps him again before leaning forward. He hisses loudly when her hot breath touches his skin, and his hips buck as she takes him into her mouth. He tries to do something with his hands, but she holds onto his wrists and brings them down onto the bed again. 

"Nancy, I won't-" he chokes.

"I know when to stop," she assures him, lifting her mouth from him for a second.

She can't see his nod in the darkness, but she can hear him sigh and feel his body relax underneath hers. She's finally got him exactly where she needs him.

It reminds her of their first time together with the initial hesitation and a squeaky old mattress. Only this time Jonathan isn’t a virgin, and they’re no longer teens. This isn’t something they can move on from without talking, and she doesn’t want to. She wants to do his again. Have him hold her bare body in the dark, make her toes curl with his kisses, sleep beside him and watch him. All perks of the relationship they had years ago that she now wants without certainty, without commitment. It is unfair, and it is selfish, but she think Jonathan wants the same thing. He’s clearly wanted her out of his hair ever since they got to New York, but at the same time he’s felt the pull between them, like she has. So she wants to think about this as a compromise. Sex and closeness added to their friendship, with none of the complications of a relationship. They won’t have to break up if they don’t get together in the first place.

Nancy releases him on time, and he goes back to examining her, a finger dipping between her legs.

“God, you’re soaked,” he groans.

“Been thinking about you the whole night,” she replies, biting down on his earlobe. It's not a lie.

"You're a tease," he tells her, moaning.

"I could tell how much you liked having me in your lap."

"It's terrible, but I can't help it when it's you."

Now it's her turn to groan.

"I need you so much," she confesses, hoping he'll get the idea.

He does, and swiftly buries himself in her. She knows she's loud, and their upstairs neighbor actually bangs on their ceiling, but she doesn't care. The feeling of Jonathan on top of her, inside of her, combined to the last of her drunken high is too much to bear. It's not hard to tell that it's been a long time for Jonathan, and he comes inside of her with a loud groan. The second first time is a whirlwind, unstoppable and intense. The second round is a calmer one, where they take their time getting re-acquainted. It turns out that things haven't changed that much; they still fit together. 

Nancy falls asleep first, the last thing she registers being Jonathan's solid form against her back, his arm around her. He buries his head in her neck, like he always used to do. The stupid sentimental side of her takes over, and a solitary tear rolls out of the corner of her eye. She's become a time traveler. 


	6. The Arrangement

_April, 1988_

_Nancy's been back in Hawkins for two weeks now. It's been a week since she told her parent she wasn't going back to Chicago. The confession had of course set off her dad, prompting a lecture on her spending his hard-earned money on tuition and then not even bothering to finish her degree. Two or three years ago she would've told her dad where to shove his opinions and probably moved out to live on her own in Chicago. Now? She barely said a word, and she hates herself for it. Like she hates herself for dropping out of college. Now she's back in her childish pastel-colored room with its reminders of a best friend killed by a monster because of her and a first love lost simply because she couldn't handle it. Couldn't handle them._

_This is one of the first times she's left the house, and even now it's only to grab some groceries for her mom. Holly's class is having a bake sale, and as usual, her mom's decided to overdo herself to prove to all the other homemakers that she's the one tro beat._

_Suddenly there's a gasp behind her back, and for a fleeting moment, she hopes... Then she turns, her hope turning into anxiety. Quickly she fixes her expression, hoping she doesn't look as disappointed as she feels._

_"Hey, Nance," greets Steve._

_"Oh, hi."_

_"I heard you were in town... It's good to see you."_

_"Uh, you, too."_

_“_ _Are you staying at your parents’ house?” Asks Steve._

_“Yeah, I am. I mean, at least for now, until I find a place of my own.”_

_“So you’re not going back to Chicago anymore?” Steve sounds surprised._

_Nancy shakes her head.“No, I’m not.”_

_“I’m hardly the right person to give advice on college, but I thought you liked it there. At least that’s what your mom’s been saying all the time.”_

_“Sorry to say this, Nance, but I didn’t expect you to come back. Not even after you and Jonathan broke up. I thought you were meant for bigger places than Hawkins.”_

_“I expected more from me, too. But things don’t always work out the way we expect them to, do they? My future’s here now,” She replies, smiling sadly._

_“What about Jonathan? Have you heard about him?” He asks, his tone cautious._

_“We haven’t been in touch. What we had is... History.”_

_“Do you think you’d let me buy you dinner sometime?”_

_Nancy hesitates. Going out with Steve definitely feels like going back to the days she had no idea who she was. Or maybe it’s the other way around. Maybe she really is that shallow girl whose best friend got murdered because she couldn’t leave her boyfriend, and not that woman who seemed to be capable of anything._

_“Sure, I’d like that,” she finally says, and the hope she sees in Steve’s eyes breaks her heart._

_She doesn’t think she’s in a position to give out her heart to anyone at all, but Steve’s a good guy. Maybe becoming the stereotypical suburban housewife wouldn’t be so bad after all. She can almost hear Jonathan’s disappointed scoff inside her head._

 

***

September, 1990

As Jonathan wakes up with Nancy's arm thrown over his chest, he panicks. He feels like a criminal. _Can it be wrong if it's what he wants and what she needs right now?_ He doesn't think so, but yet somehow he still feels as if he's committed a terrible crime. What makes his offense worse is that he doesn't regret it. He'd still do it if someone told him it was wrong, as long as Nancy wanted it as much as he did.

Nancy turns slightly, burrowing into him with a contented sigh. His first instinct is to wrap an arm around her, run his fingers through her curly hair. His hand stops in mid-air as he realizes the truth: she must think he's Steve. The thought makes him feel a little sick and he can't say in the bed anymore. He needs air, some space to think, but he doesn't want her to get the wrong idea... Breafast. That's it. He's going to make breakfast.

Carefully, he disentangles himself from her and dresses. He has to go to work soon anyway, but he still has time for a walk to pick up their breakfast before that. Maybe it'll help him clear his head.

 _What is he even supposed to do now?_ Was last night a one-time thing? He knows he doesn't want her to leave, and she doesn't have anywhere else to go anyway. He doesn't think he could handle the thought of her in the streets. Nancy can look after herself, but still. No, she has to stay. Even if things turn awkward.

An hour later he's back, armed with blueberry muffins. He can make the rest of the breakfast himself, which will give him something else to do besides tapping the kitchen counter nervously, or sitting on the couch, nervously wondering what would happen next.

As he's got the eggs happily frying on the pan, he hears Nancy yawning behind him.

"Good morning," she says, stretching her arms above her head. She's wearing his t-shirt, and now it rises above her hips, revealing that she's most definitely not wearing anything underneath it. He figures the oxygen level in the apartment must've dropped by at least by a few points, because he can't breathe.

"Morning. Breakfast?" He asks, indicating towards the muffins, orange juice and toast already on the small table. He's set it for two, but if things go south, he can skip it.

"Ummm... I think I must've had one or too drinks too many last night, so I'm not really feeling up for breakfast, although it does look great. I'm sorry," she apologizes, frowning. She does look a bit green. And now he feels like a complete idiot.

"Yeah, of course. Just let me know if you need anything."

He thought she'd go and lie down on the couch or the bed to nurse her hangover, but she surprises him by taking a seat at the table.

"Do you want to talk about what happened last night?" She asks, staring not at Jonathan but at her cuticles. 

"Do you?"

"I think we should. I mean, it changes things."

"You don't have to leave," he blurts out quickly.

Their eyes meet and he tries not to look too desperate to keep her with him. She holds his gaze, saying nothing. When the moment stretches and stretches, Jonathan finds himself growing frustrated. _Shit. Can't she just tell him what she thinks about what transpired?_

Slowly, Nancy seems to come to a decision, and starts biting her lower lip.

"I'm not ready for a relationship, Jonathan."

He nods.

"Okay." He was never going to suggest that, but he still forces himself to ignore the pain in his chest. _She doesn't want him. Not really, anyway._

"But we could, you know... Have fun. No strings attached. If you find someone you want to date, we'll call it quits. Same with me," she suggests.

Jonathan swallows.

"Just sex," he murmurs.

"Yeah, just sex."

It's a good idea, and probably at the same time the worst idea he's ever heard. But it's true that she only left a guy at the altar a couple of months ago. Rushing into a relationship wouldn't make sense. They get along well, care about each other and the sex is good, so he's the perfect guy for an arrangement like this, isn't he?

"All right. Sounds good to me," he says, hoping she doesn't hear the sigh in his reply. He's the one putting his heart on the line, and if she breaks it again? It'll be on him, not on her. She's made her position and feelings clear enough.

"Good... Now, I need to brush my teeth, but after that... I could use a repeat performance of last night," she suggests, a seductive grin on her lips as she approaches him and runs a finger down his covered chest. 

He does have work to do later, but there's no way he's going to miss out on this opportunity. 

"That can be arranged," he promises, pulling her in for a kiss. God, he would never get sick of the sigh she lets out as her mouth opens for him and he gently palms one of her breasts through the thin cotton of his shirt.

 ***

November, 1990

Jonathan's been in Maine for the past week, doing a report on food festivals for a local newspaper. Hardly a great gig, but it's another reference he can use, and he has to take what he can get. _In more ways than one_ , he realizes, as he drops his duffel on the floor of their apartment. He's missed Nancy, to the point of wanting to call her from his hotel room, but he didn't want to arouse her suspicions that he's after more than what she's promised him. So they haven't talked for seven days, and there's only one way she'll let him show her how much he's missed her.

It's the middle of the night and he's cold to the bone after enduring the chilly weather outside, but still, he stops in front of the bed before getting in, soaking in the fact that Nancy's sound asleep there. He wonders if she's slept there all week, and if she has, if it's only because it's more comfortable than the couch. 

Ever since the start of their arrangement, they've stayed on the same track. They talk about anything that isn't them, they laugh, they flirt and they fuck. He's seen guys slip her their numbers at work, but so far she hasn't seemed interested. 

He must've made a sound, as Nancy sits up, rubbing her eyes.

"Hey," she says. "Welcome back."

"Thanks."

"Come here, Jonathan."

He obliges, leaving his clothes in a messy pile. As twisted as their relationship or friendship or whatever this is, is, his body aches for her.

"Sit on the edge of the mattress," she orders, crawling towards him. 

His eyes follow every movement Nancy makes as she rises off the bed and comes to stand in front of him. He spreads his knees to accomodate her, pulling her close before burying his head against her belly.

"Can we take this off?" He asks, tugging on the shirt she's wearing. She says nothing, but pulls it off. He hugs her again, and this time her fingers end up in his hair, eventually caressing the nape of his neck. He's about to lift her into his lap, but she has other ideas, prying his hands off her waist before sinking onto her knees.

"Did you think about me when you were gone?" She asks, her voice a mere whisper, her warm breath hitting his inner thigh.

Taking several deep breaths, he nods.

"I did."

"Were you hoping I'd do this to you when you came back?"

"Among other things."

"You can tell me all about that later," she replies, before taking him into her mouth. Jonathan gasps, his hands gripping the sheets instead of her hair. _Jesus._

She keeps going, but he's determined not to let it go too far, so at last he pushes her away, and then pulls her onto the bed. She lifts her legs on his shoulders, and he sinks in deeper as her nails reach for his buttocks.

"I missed you so much," he confesses.

"Prove it," she tells him. And he does. Three times.

 ***

December, 1990

Ever since Nancy’s sudden return into his life, Jonathan's felt less lonely. Sometimes it’s impossible not to give your heart to someone even after they’ve broken it once before. Regardless of his feelings, the two of them are inevitably on borrowed time. She may have turned down the guys asking her out for now, but it's not likely to last. 

Nancy’s smart and determined, so if she says something is temporary, he’s going to have to take her word for it. She will leave, and he will be even more broken than before. It’s taken him all this time to be able to just live in the moment, enjoy what he’s got. When you live in a family where even next month’s paycheck is far from a certainty, you learn to think ahead. Too much so.

Now Nancy’s sitting in his tiny kitchen, wearing nothing but his shirt from the previous night.

“Are you okay?” She asks, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Never been better,” he replies, leaning in for a kiss.

“Do you have somewhere to be today?”

“No.”

“Good, because I’m dying here, Jonathan. You’re looking at me like _I’m_ breakfast,” she chuckles.

“You mean you’re not?” Jonathan cocks an eyebrow.

“Come here and show me.”

They don’t make it to the bed, but instead he pins her down against the hand rest of the pullout couch, with Nancy facing toward the mattress.

He can tell she doesn’t want gentle, and he’s not going to give it to her. Not this time, anyway. His fingers come away from her sex drenched, and he pulls his boxers down before taking hold of her hips. Nancy sighs his name as he fills her from behind, taking her, claiming her.

Jonathan would be lying to himself if he claimed he’d ever wanted another girl as much as he wants her, as much as he’ll _always_ want her.

She gives into him completely, and he relishes that trust. Right now she doesn’t have to try to take control of anything, or worry about anything. Maybe that's why she started this thing with him in the first place. _To forget._ The thing is... He doesn't want to be forgotten.

“Oh, God, Jonathan. Harder...” she moans, and because he’s a total sucker when it comes to her, he gives in.

She’s so tight he nearly loses it right then and there, but manages to hold out. He’s going to make her come first. Finally she does, her moans loud, and that’s when he lets go.

They spend the day in bed until it's time for Nancy's shift. 

"Are you still sure you don't want to come to Hawkins for Christmas?"

Nancy nods.

"I don't want to spend Christmas with my parents... It'd be so awkward. It's just too soon, Jonathan."

He nods, but then hesitates, an idea forming in his head.

"You know, I'm sure my mom and Hopper wouldn't mind having you over."

She raises a brow.

"We wouldn't have to tell her about this, of course-" he clarifies. He really doesn't want to tell his mom about it, as she wouldn't get it. She loves Nancy like a daughter, and this would get her all excited for nothing. This is nothing. 

Nancy frowns, clearly considering his idea. 

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah. I'll go with you."

The promise of a shared trip back home shouldn't make him as happy as it does, but the thought of being able to spend Christmas with her fills him with warmth, as well as the most dangerous thing of all: hope.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry about the long wait! :((( The good news is that the next chapter is halfway written, so it will be up sooner than in 4 months, I promise :D The Christmas part is all written, but there's more I want to include in the next chapter, so I decided to end this one here.


	7. The Holidays

_June, 1985_

_As Jonathan parks his car in front of Nancy's house, he almost wishes he'd cancelled on her. He could've called and said he's not in the mood. As much as he wants to see her, he should be looking for a second job, not wasting time with his girlfriend. Should he sell his car? He could always bike to school and work, after all._

_The front door opens and Nancy saunters out, a familiar skip in her step as she approaches his car. She's changed after work and is now wearing a light blue summer dress that he knows matches perfectly with her eyes. She looks happy, and he can't believe he was just as happy only a couple of hours before. Before he found his mom at home despite knowing she was supposed to be at work._

_Nancy opens the door and slips inside, flashing him a smile. He tries to smile back, but it must look more like a grimace._

_"What's the matter?" She asks, placing a hand on his arm._

_He shakes his head, sighing. The last thing he wants is for her to worry about this, about his family._

_"Tell me, Jonathan. You're freaking me out."_

_He draws in a deep breath. She'd hear about it soon enough anyway. Nothing stays hidden in Hawkins._

_"My mom lost her job. The store's closing altogether. It's because of that mall..." he blurts out, his voice trailing off. The world is changing, and Hawkins with it, but why does all the crap have to pile on his family?_

_"I'm so sorry." She knows things are going to be even tougher for his family now without asking. "She'll find something else," she finally says._

_Of course Jonathan's always known how different their backgrounds are, but right at this moment he feels the impact more than ever before. It hurts. She doesn't understand._

_So he starts the car, still saying nothing, but he can feel her eyes on him. Finally she can't take it anymore, and places a hand on his knee._

_"Please, talk to me," she begs._

_"You wouldn't understand."_

_"Excuse me?"_

_"Have you ever gone hungry, Nancy? Even for a night? Because your family hasn't had enough money for dinner?" He asks, all his bitterness and anger over his mom's misfortune pouring out. On Nancy. The only girl he's ever loved. The constant in his life that keeps his world turning._

_"No, but-"_

_"Then you have no idea of what I'm feeling right now. We could lose our house. I can't even think about college. That's what I'm facing."_

_"Let me out," she suddenly demands. His stomach drops, although it should be no surprise. He's being an idiot._

_"You don't want to walk back home in this heat."_

_"Yeah, I do. Stop the car, Jonathan."_

_He finally obliges._

_"I'm really sorry your mom lost her job, I know you're hurting, and I'd do anything to help you guys out, but I don't know what to do. And you need to stop blaming me."_

_She's right, and despite his sour mood, he doesn't want her to go. He wants her to stay and listen to him rant and rave. But he knows he shouldn't direct it at her._

_"I wasn't blaming you! I'm trying to make you see what you're dealing with! Who you're dealing with!"_

_They've been together for over half a year now and sometimes, like now, he still doesn't understand what she's doing with him._

_"I know exactly what and who I'm dealing with. Or I would, if only my boyfriend stopped behaving like an asshole and got it through his thick skull that we're in this together!"_

_At last he turned to look at her._

_"What do you mean?"_

_"I mean that sometimes you still really think you're a fucking island! Or that your family's an island! I practically live at your house, so it's not like this doesn't concern me at all."_

_He pauses at her words. She's telling him that she really wants to be a part of his family. To him she already is, but this is different._

_"You don't have to-"_

_"But I do! I don't want you, your mom and Will to be homeless, and I want you to have your freedom. You deserve to get out of this place."_

_"Real life doesn't work that way, Nancy." He's terrified of staying and letting Nancy go, and he's terrified by the possibility of leaving. Nothing feels right._

_"But we've got to try! I can definitely pay for my own upkeep and even chip in-"_

_"No. Absolutely not." There's no way he's letting her help out with the payments._

_"You can't tell me what to do. You're my world, but I still won't let you stop me from doing what's right."_

_He's a fool, but God help him, he loves her so much. She lets out a tiny yelp of surprise when he pulls her into a tight hug before cupping her face with his hands and kissing her. At least if he's going down, he's got her by his side. For now._

_"God, Nancy. You're really something. I don't know what I'd do without you," he admits, knowing there will be a time he'll have to figure that out, too._

_"We're going to figure it out. I promise. I love you," she replies, crawling into his lap._

***

_December, 1990_

"You're sure your mom won't mind me staying with you guys?"

"Of course I'm sure. She loves you, and she gets why don't want to stay with your family."

"I still want to check on Mom and Holly. Mike and El will be at your house for dinner at some point, right?" _How embarrassing is is that she hasn't talked to her little brother since leaving town? Jonathan talks to Will on the phone at least three times a week. But then again, they've always had a much closer bond than Mike and her._

"Yeah, tomorrow, I think."

She nods.

They reach Hawkins a couple of hours after sunset. It all looks the same as it did when she left it back in the summer. Like nothing's changed. 

Jonathan pulls to the driveway and parks the car beside Chief Hopper's patrol car. The front door opens before they can even get their bags from the car, and Joyce Byers rushes out, followed by Will.

"Jonathan, Nancy! Come here, it's so great to see you!" She exclaims, wrapping Jonathan into a hug.

"Hey, Mom," he says, flashing a smile. How Nancy wishes she could have a family like his. Non-judgmental and loving. 

"Hi Nancy," greets Will, stopping to stand before her, obviously not sure whether to go in for a hug or a handshake. She makes the decision for him, pulling the boy into an embrace.

"Good to see you, Will."

"Let me take your stuff," he suggests, but Nancy notices that Jonathan's already got her bags.

"No need, your brother already took care of them."

Will raises his eyebrows and winks at her. There's no way Jonathan's told him about them, right?

 "Nancy! Great to have you here! You can take Jonathan's room, Sweetie," says Joyce, finally letting go of her firstborn.

"No, absolutely not. I'll take the couch, Mrs. Byers."

"Just take my room, Nance," orders Jonathan.

"All right, then. Fine."

The house is crowded now with all of them in it, and her face gets hot as she realizes _she's_ the one making things difficult. Will and Jonathan both have to sleep in the living room, with her and El taking their old rooms and Joyce and Hopper occupying the master bedroom. 

Later, right before they settle down for dinner, a car stops in the driveway, parking beside Jonathan. Nancy's heart leaps at the sight of her little brother, who's no longer really little, but an actual college student. El bounds inside happily, followed by Mike.

"Jonathan, Nancy! I'm so happy you're here!" She exclaims, hugging Nancy. Mike smiles at her from the other side of the room, a little uncertain.

"Hey, Mike. Sorry I haven't been in touch," she says, and she means it. Mike goes to college in Chicago, so it's not like she would've had to talk to her parents if she'd called him. However, the truth is that they've never been _those_ siblings, like Jonathan and Will. Sometimes she envies him, but at the same time it's hard for her to imagine having that kind of a relationship with Mike.

"It's okay. I'm glad you're okay. Mom asked if you wanted to come to dinner tomorrow night. El will be there, too."

Nancy turns to look at Jonathan, who gives her an encouraging smile, mouthing _"Why not?"_ at her. At the same time she knows she'd be going in alone. Bringing Jonathan along would raise uncomfortable questions.

She shrugs. "Sure. Tell her I'll be there."

Mike's about to head out the door, but Joyce's voice stops him. "Come on, Mike, stay for dinner. Will went out to get some milk, but he'll be back soon. I'm sure he'd be happy to see you."

She's not really sure what happened between Will and Mike, but these days their friendship seems strained. It's not a secret that Will isn't into girls, but it's a shame if that's driven the two of them apart. Jonathan hasn't talked to her about it, either. She makes a mental note to coax some details out of him.

Mike shuffles his feet nervously before finally nodding. "All right, I'll stick around for a bit."

Will shows up within minutes, and his eyes are wide as saucers as he sees Mike sitting at their kitchen table.

"Oh, hi," he greets.

"Hey, Will."

The tension in the air is palpable. Nancy tugs on Jonathan's hand to catch his attention.

 _"What happened?"_ she mouths, but he shakes his head. _"Later,"_ he mouths back.

"Are you liking Chicago, Mike?" Asks the chief, breaking the awkward silence. 

"Yeah, it's neat. It's close to home, too, which is good."

"So you can visit me every weekend," quips El.

"Exactly."

Meanwhile, Nancy watches as Jonathan's brother only moves food around his plate.

She finally manages to corner Jonathan after dinner, when she's supposed to be heading for the shower and he's just coming out of the bathroom. She locks them inside and crosses her arms.

"I thought you wanted to keep a low profile," he jokes, wrapping an arm around her waist.

"As exciting as this would be, that's not why we're here," she hisses, trying not to melt as Jonathan kisses her neck.

"Oh? Then what is it?" he asks, playing dumb.

"Mike and Will. What happened?"

He pulls away, letting out a deep breath.

"Look, it's not really my business to tell you. He's my brother, my best friend."

"And the other person involved is _my_ brother. Mike and Will have been thick as thieves since they were in preschool, so what's changed?"

"Okay. Let's put it this way, Nancy: Will and I haven't exactly had the best luck when it comes to the Wheeler siblings and relationships."

He doesn't say it angrily, but she hears resentment, but she buries it, focusing on what he's basically told her.

"Will's in love with Mike?" She asks, wanting to confirm. It's not exactly a surprise, but she is kind of surprised Will ever told Mike about his feelings. 

"Not anymore, at least I don't think so. But Will says things have been really weird between them ever since the whole thing came out."

"That's a shame."

"Yeah, it is." Things make a little more sense to her now. Why Will is attending college in Connecticut, but Mike and the others stayed close to home. 

"You don't think there's anything that could be done about it?" She asks.

 Jonathan shakes his head.

"No, not really. Maybe with time they can patch things up and things will be less awkward, but some things... They aren't fixable or changeable. What's done is done. Good night," he finishes, reaching behind her to open the lock.

"Good night."

***

The next day, Jonathan is distant, avoiding Nancy most of the day, opting to go to Indianapolis for Christmas shopping with Will. She's not sure if this is about Will and Mike or them, but she already misses him. She spends the day finishing her own Christmas shopping and the obligatory wrapping. For some reason she's always liked it, though, and this time is no different. It takes time for her to pick out the nicest paper for Jonathan's presents; a new scarf and a camera bag he's been drooling over. When she's tied the bow, she stops to think. _Are these presents even appropriate? What are you supposed to buy to a guy you’re sleeping with but who isn’t your boyfriend?_ Shaking her head, she tells herself to stop overthinking and pushes the wrapped parcels under the bed.

Jonathan doesn't come back until it's almost time for her to leave for her parents'.

"Can I borrow your car for tonight?" She asks, pulling her jacket on.

"Sure," he replies, throwing the keys for her to catch. 

"Thanks. Have a good night,"

"You too."

She grabs the presents meant for her family (mostly for Holly and Mike) and starts the car, but doesn't back up yet. She's not nervous about Holly, or even her mom. It's her dad that makes her nervous. Knowing him, he's probably still livid, but she can't let the others down. 

***

Holly opens the front door for her and squeals excitedly before wrapping her arms around her.

"I missed you, Nancy."

"I know, Hols. I missed you, too."

"Please don't leave again," she pleads. Nancy can't give her sister the answer she wants to hear, so she just squeezes her tiny body harder.

“It’s so good to have you here, Nancy. It’s been too long," says her mother, coming to stand behind Holly. 

“Yeah, I’m sorry I haven’t kept in touch.”

Her mom hugs her too, but it feels a little forced.

"I'm sorry, Mom," Nancy whispers into Karen's shoulder.

Her mom pats her back.

"Let's sit down and eat. I've made your father's favorite dinner; chicken."

"Great."

Once Mike and El drag themselves from the basement and her dad manages to part with his favorite armchair, they all gather in the dining room.

“Joyce said you’re still living with Jonathan. Is that true?” Asks her mother, ladling gravy on top of Holly's chicken.

“Yes. He’s been a big help.”

“And you even got a job, I understand.”

She nods.

“And what would that job be?” asks her father, finally bothering to look up from his plate.

“I work at a coffee shop.”

Ted scoffs. “Did you hear that, Karen? Our daughter is a waitress and living in some dump with a bum-“

“That’s enough, Dad,” says Mike sternly.

“You forget your place, Michael. I’m the head of this family and I will say whatever I please.”

“Ted, please. Let’s not ruin dinner with this.”

“You expect me to let her leave without telling her exactly how much trouble she’s caused? How much money I put into that damned wedding she couldn’t even go through with!”

“I didn’t love Steve, but then again, you wouldn’t know a single thing about love, Dad.”

“Love is a matter of convenience and effort, Nancy. The latter of which you have no concept of. We spoiled you, even let you waste years with that Byers boy, dreaming of some kind of perfect love. Is that what this is about? You’re going to spend the rest of your life in a rat-infested hellhole with a no-good loser?”

“Don’t talk about Jonathan like that!” Hisses Nancy. 

“So there is something. Are you pregnant? Is that why you’re here? Asking for money?”

“No matter what, I will never ask you for money again, believe me. Actually, I’ll pay you back for the wedding. Every single dollar," she swears, pushing her chair from the table. She's not going to cry in front of her dad and let him see that he's getting to her.

Ted laughs. “I know I’ll never see that money again.”

Nancy gets up and locks herself in the bathroom, although it's nothing but a temporary shelter. She should just leave. She can't quite believe she agreed to attend this dinner in the first place. It's a total disaster.

After ten minutes or so, she returns to the table, finding that her exit has returned the peace. _Is that how it's going to be for the rest of her life?_

They continue eating, mostly in silence. None of the topics discussed involve her or her life in New York. The best moments are the ones her dad spends simply sulking, shooting daggers at her. Next come the moments he totally ignores her when she's speaking, but replies to everyone else seated around the table.

He finally loses it over the dessert. The first sign of his soon-to-be-unleashed anger manifests itself as a tremor in the hand he's using to hold his dessert fork. The second sign she remembers well from her childhood; it's the color of his nose and forehead. Crimson. 

"So Nancy, how are you planning on spending the rest of your life?" he asks, his voice still deceptively calm.

"I'm still trying to figure that out," she answers tensely.

"Well, we invested tens of thousands of dollars both in your education and your wedding, if you remember, and you couldn't even be bothered to finish the degree," he continues, raising his voice.

"I didn't come here so you could-"

"I'm not finished yet, Nancy!" Yells Ted, punching the table. Holly flinches.

"Ted, honey-" tries her mom, but to no avail.

"No, Karen. I'm trying to hold our daughter responsible for her actions. I think she's more than old enough for that."

"You may not be finished, Dad, but you know what? I am. I'm done with you. With this entire fucked-up family," states Nancy, throwing her napkin onto the table and pushing her chair back to get on her feet. 

"Sit down, Nancy. Now, and stop cursing!"

"No, I won't. I'm going to walk out of here and drive back to the Byers house, where I'm welcome."

As she strides into the foyer, her dad follows, grabbing her arm.

"Let me go!" she hisses, wrenching herself from his grip.

"Not until you know exactly how much grief you've brought us! Aside from not finishing your education, you then abandoned a man at the altar. A man with a decent enough job. You could've been a respectable housewife, like your mother. But no, you ran off Jonathan Byers!"

"I did not run off with him! I asked for his help. And besides, why do you even care? He helped me when I needed it, and it's not like he's my boyfr-"

"Oh, come on. Don't try to claim you're not whoring yourself to him. You can't even pay your own rent!"

"I do pay my share of the rent. And so what if I'm sleeping with him?"

She turns to go once more, but this time her dad catches her by surprise, grabbing her shoulder. Before she even has time to react, his fist knocks her backward into the door. What follows is a lot of screaming, and suddenly her dad's arms freeze in midair.

"NO!" Screams El.

"Go, Nancy, go," says her mother, tears in her eyes. Holly's crying, too. Mike's got his arms wrapped around their dad's torso.

Surprised her shaky legs can still carry her, she leaves the house, throwing the door shut behind her. Jonathan's car is still waiting exactly where she left it. Somehow she gets the keys from her pocket and into the ignition.

She doesn't stop until the Byers driveway, where she turns the engine off and lets go. Her shoulders are shaking so violently that she doesn't think she can get into the house on her own.

She wanders off the Byers property, into the frosty woods. It takes her a while to realize that she left her coat at her parents’ house. _Shit._

Taking a seat on a tree trunk, she wraps her arms around herself and watches her own breaths come out as steam. It’s going to be pitch dark very soon, maybe in less than a half an hour. The frozen leaves on the forest floor crunch as they’re stomped on. It’s a person, she can tell that much. Her heart speeds up, reacting to a possible threat the way she would've back as a teenager, knowing all the things that have walked these paths. But it's not the Demogorgon, or a Demodog.

“Nancy?” He calls out. _Jonathan._

“Nancy? Where are you?” 

“I’m here,” she chokes out.

“What’s going on? What are you doing out here without a coat?” 

“I... Things didn’t go well with my parents.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured that out. What happened to your cheek?” Jonathan kneels at her feet, inspecting her face with a frown.

“My dad.”

“Your dad hit you?”

She nods.

“Nancy... I’m sorry,” he says, reaching up to place a hand on her sore cheek. It doesn’t hurt as much as before, the cold air’s helping with the swelling.

He removes his coat and places it on her shoulders.

“Thanks,” she says.

“We should probably get going... Mike and El are at the house, too.”

Jonathan seems to hesitate at first, but then offers her his hand, which she accepts. He leads her out of the woods, back to the house, where she sees the concerned faces of her brother, his girlfriend and all of Jonathan's family. Luckily he steers everyone out of the room except for Mike and El.

"We'll be back in a minute," he tells her.

"Thank you," she answers.

“Are you okay, Nancy?” Asks her brother, clapping a hand on her shoulder. This is the most intimate gesture she's received from him in years.

“Yeah, I’m fine now. I hope you and El didn’t get into too much trouble over me,” she replies.

El smiles, shaking her head. “Mike’s a pretty good liar by now. I’m glad you’re okay, too.”

“Thanks, El. For everything.”

“We should probably get back, we just wanted to drop off your coat and make sure you were all right,” continues Mike.

"Of course. Go ahead, I'll be fine here. Please tell Mom and Holly I'm sorry."

Mike nods.

"It wasn't your fault, though. Dad's just... He's been like that since the summer, pretty much."

"Since I left.

"Yeah."

"I don't know how to fix it."

"Neither do I, but frankly I think he should be the one to leave. Mom would do fine without him."

"You heard what he said, Mike. About love. He's not going anywhere, he's too comfortable being waited on by Mom. And there's no way she's leaving him."

Her brother shrugs.

"Maybe, but I think we all need to make our own choices, it doesn't matter whether he approves of them. If you feel like you need to go back to New York, you should go."

"You thought... You thought I was coming back here to _stay_?"

"Well, you came back! I didn't know what to think, Nancy. We haven't talked in months, remember? I thought you might-"

"Come back groveling and maybe took up where I left off?" She asks. Mike isn't the reason for her problems, but just like when they were younger, he doesn't seem to know her at all, and it drives her crazy.

"Well, you're hardly a good example of making decisions and sticking to them!" he yells back. Mike's temper is at least as bad as hers.

"What's going on here?" Asks Jonathan, stopping beside her.

"Nothing," she says. "Mike was just leaving."

"Yeah, I was. Merry Christmas, Jonathan."

"Merry Christmas."

Mike heads back out, followed by El.

Nancy sighs.

"I just want to go to bed and forget this day ever took place."

Jonathan nods.

"I'll tell Mom you need some time alone."

***

It's the middle of the night, and Nancy comes awake, covered in cold sweat. Staring at the ceiling of Jonathan's old room, she considers her options. There's not going to be any more sleep for her in here, and going out isn't a good alternative. So she drops onto her feet as quietly as she can and tiptoes out of the room, into the living room, where Jonathan is asleep on the couch, and Will on a mattress on the floor.

“Jonathan? Are you awake?” She whispers, shaking his arm gently.

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

“I just... I couldn’t sleep. Can I stay with you for a while?”

He blinks at her and says nothing at first. For a second, she thinks he's going to tell her to leave him alone. He's been so distant ever since their talk about Mike and Will that it wouldn't surprise her. But then he pulls her down beside him.

“Sure," he whispers.

He lifts the covers, allowing her to get underneath them. The couch isn’t meant for two, and she ends up half on top of him. His fingers trace the bare skin of her arm, soothing her. Up and down, up and down, up and down.

“I thought I was finding my way, Jonathan. Now I’m not so sure anymore.”

“What do you mean? You shouldn’t let your dad get to you like that. And I don't know what happened with you and Mike, but the same goes for him.”

“Mike's still a brat. And I know, and my dad is wrong, for the most part. Is it weird I don’t know where I’ll be in 5 years? That I don’t even know where I want to be?” She asks.

“No, not really. There are so many possibilities open for you, Nance. You’re smart, talented, determined and beautiful.”

“Do you know where you’ll be?”

“No, but I do know where I’d like to be.”

“And where’s that?”

“Go to sleep, Nancy.”

“You’re being evasive.”

“A guy’s got a right to some secrets, right?” He jokes, refusing to elaborate on his plans.

"I guess so. But how can you know?"

Jonathan shrugs, the movement lifting her head slightly.

"You've known me for a long time. I usually know what I want. Or if I don't at first, it doesn't take me long to figure it out."

"I wish I was like that, too."

"We're all different. Nothing bad about that."

"It'd be so much easier."

"Not really, because there are often things that people know they want that are unavailable to them."

"Yeah. Still, I wish I knew," she sighs.

"I'll wake you up before anyone else wakes up. It's Christmas Eve, so Mom'll probably be up pretty early."

"Okay. Thank you."

Jonathan falls asleep long before she does, and she listens to his even breathing. His arm is still wrapped around her even in his sleep, like he doesn't want to let her go. Eventually the quiet of the house lulls her back to sleep, her cheek against' Jonathan's chest.

***

When she wakes up again, it's no longer dark outside and someone's shaking her. No, not her. Someone's shaking _Jonathan_. She can't be bothered to crack her eyes open, so she ignores the movement.

"Jonathan," hisses Will. "Wake up. Mom'll be out of the shower in a minute."

"What?" comes Jonathan's groggy reply.

"Do you want Mom to see Nancy here?"

"Oh shit. I was supposed to... Nancy? Nancy?"

Now he's shaking her awake.

"I'll go," she says, somehow pulling herself off the couch and slipping back into her room before anyone sees her.

***

"Could you two head to the store by any chance?" Asks Jonathan's mom, while they're all wolfing down their breakfast. "I'll give you a list, of course."

"Sure, no problem," answers Jonathan for both of them. She nods back in agreement. They could definitely use some time alone.

"Don't get too distracted," whispers Will to Jonathan, loud enough for her to hear. Jonathan's face goes tomato red, and she wishes she could reach Will and smack him just a little, but he's too far. Besides, this is all in good fun, and the younger Byers winks at her. She can't help but grin back. Despite everything that happened the day before, today it feels like she's starting anew.

"Do you want to stop at the diner for coffee or something?" Asks Jonathan when they're in the car.

"Sounds good."

"I actually brought your present with me, although it's not Christmas yet. I thought it'd be better if you opened it in private."

He stops at the parking lot of the diner and pulls out a box from the glove compartment.

"Go on, open it."

The expectant look on his face scares her to death and she's no longer sure if she should open the box. The problem is that there is no escaping the situation. So she swallows and rips the paper off. The box reveals a silvery necklace with blue stones. It looks expensive, and is definitely something you'd buy for a significant other. It's gorgeous, but she doesn't know if she can accept it.

“If you don like it, I can return it,“ he says quietly, still observing her intently.

“It's beautiful.. But..."

"But what?"

"Why me? You know what we agreed on."

He nods.

"Yeah, I do. But I still want you to have this."

"Okay."

"What does that mean?"

"Okay as in I accept your present. Thank you." She removes the necklace from the box and lifts it to her neck. Jonathan helps her out with the clasp. It truly is beautiful. It's actually the most beautiful thing anyone has ever given her.

"You're welcome," he says.

She leans in to kiss him, and ends up straddling him.

"Hmmm... I miss having you in my bed, Jonathan," she confesses, grinding herself against him. This is an opportunity to steer their relationship back into safe territory.

"I miss you, too. But this is a public parking lot."

"I know. How about after the grocery store? We could drive someplace."

"You sound like a horny 17-year-old," he jokes, but the way he's responding to her tells her that he needs her just as much.

"Well, you would know what I was like as one," she replies, biting down on his earlobe. His hands dive underneath her jacket and sweater to open her bra. She shifts to allow him more access to her breasts.

"God, Nancy. We need to get to the store," he says in a pained tone, gently pushing her off him.

"Later, then."

 ***

She's trying to figure out which kind of cheese to buy since Joyce Byers' shopping list is lacking in detail, when suddenly Jonathan's arms wrap around her from behind. He kisses her neck, his hands wandering down to her hips.

"Hey," he says."

"We were supposed to keep a low profile, remember?" she asks him.

"There's nobody here, Nance."

The aisle _is_ currently empty, so she turns around to kiss him properly. 

His hot kisses tickle her neck and she laughs, until she realizes they're no longer alone. A lone figure is standing at the end of the aisle, a shopping basket in hand. _Steve. Oh, no._ She pulls away from Jonathan as fast as she can, but the damage has already been done. Steve marches past them without a greeting of any kind.

"What is it?" Asks Jonathan.

"Nothing. Do you think I could borrow your car later?"

"Sure," he replies, but she can see the suspicion in his eyes. 

"I need to see Steve," she tries to explain, but there's no way she's telling Jonathan that she made Steve a promise not to get back together with him.

"Okay then. I think we should drive straight home, so you can get to Steve as soon as possible."

"It's not like that, Jon-"

"Even if it was, it would be none of my business, as you already reminded me earlier. I'll drive home and take the groceries, then you can take the car. I shouldn't need it any time soon."

Jonathan grabs the shopping bags from the car and marches to the front door without a second look in her direction. It doesn't feel right leaving him like this, but she has to see Steve.

***

Steve still lives in that same house he bought for them back before their wedding. She doesn't really want to go back inside, but it seems like the only choice she currently has, as her ex-fiancé's car is sitting in the driveway. She knocks on the door and waits, until she remembers that she still has the keys. _Awkward._

The door opens.

"Hello, Nancy."

Steve stands in front of her, leaning on the doorjamb. He doesn't look surprised to see her.

"Hi. Can I come in for a second?"

"I guess, depends on what you're here for. I'm surprised you didn't bring your boyfriend along."

"That's partly why I'm here, Steve. He's not my boyfriend."

Steve frowns.

“I don’t know what game Jonathan’s playing, but he’s in love with you, in case you haven't noticed.”

“Jonathan doesn’t play games, Steve.”

“Whatever, but I hope you know how he feels.”

She sticks her chin out stubbornly. “We have an agreement, and that’s the end of it. We’re not together and we’re not getting back together.”

But Steve’s not listening. “You still have no idea what you want, do you? If Jonathan means nothing to you, then who says _I_ couldn’t have a chance, too, huh? Why not me, Nance?” He demands. "I could be your _arrangement_ , or whatever it is you're calling it."

Before she can form an answer, his mouth is suddenly hovering over hers. A question that she knows the answer to. She may be the most fucked up girl in Hawkins, but she’s not _that_ stupid.

“No,” she says. “We’re over, Steve, in every way possible. Stay the hell away from me.”

Throwing her keys on a side table, she returns to the car. She doesn’t linger in the driveway, heading straight back to the Byers house.

There’s nobody to be seen as she enters the house. The others must've gone to pick up the tree, but where's Jonathan?

“Jonathan?” she calls out.

“In here.”

She follows his voice into the room she’s using for the time being. His old room. There she finds him sitting on the bed, nursing a beer, which she knows he hates anyway. There are at least two empty cans on the nightstand.

“So, how did it go? He asks, his eyes taking in her appearance, as if looking for evidence of... _What exactly? That she had sex with Steve?_

“Nothing happened,” she says, although it's not really true.

“I don’t believe you."

It takes her a while to think of an answer, but he waits patiently.

“Steve was hoping for more than I want to give,” she finally says. She then covers her face with her hands.

“Nancy, what is it?” He asks abandoning his beer to kneel in front of her on the floor and grasping her arms gently.

“I feel so cheap,” she whispers.

“What? No, no. No. You’re not cheap, you’re amazing. Look at me,” he tells her.

She faces his warm brown eyes and the sincerity in them. _Is Steve right? That Jonathan still loves her?_

“You’ve made so much progress. You have a job, you’re supporting yourself in a strange city. You have friends, people who care about you. There’s nothing cheap or pathetic about you.”

She kisses him, grateful for his words. He tastes of the beer they both hate, but I’d doesn’t matter.

“Come here,” she begs him, and he complies, moving to rest beside her on the bed.

The tension they left unresolved that morning returns at full force now. Nancy's breath hitches at the sight of the yearning in his eyes. Some of her college friends insisted that only bad boys were good in bed, but that is not true at all, Jonathan is living proof of that. Not that she ever talked much about him to her college friends. 

“I need you, Jonathan,” she admits, untucking his t-shirt from his waistband.

She sits in his lap while he unbuttons her blouse carefully and brushes it off her shoulders.

“You’re gorgeous,” he murmurs, placing gentle kisses on her chest.

“And smart,” he says as he pulls her jeans off.

“And strong.”

“And brave.”

He goes down on her, but teases her, only licking her folds on the outside, making her beg for more. She makes an unhappy noise, and he relents, finally letting his tongue stroke her insides. She comes almost instantly, her cries echoing throughout the empty house. After a short recovery period, she pushes him down onto his back and climbs on top of him as his palms land on her hips. 

"I love that necklace on you," he moans, making her aware that it's the only thing she's currently wearing. 

She pulls him on top of her, wrapping her legs around his waist. His thrusts are slow and deep, making her grasp the hair at the back of his neck. She doesn’t know if he loves her or even if she wants him to, but this, what they’re doing... He’s making love to her. The thought somehow makes her lose it, triggering his orgasm as well. 

“I'm lucky to have you in my life,” Jonathan whispers into her ear. She squeezes his fingers in response.

"This room has always been like the Antarctica during the winter months," she muses, shivering slightly as Jonathan moves off of her, exposing her temporarily to the cold air.

Nancy burrows into Jonathan, her icy toes suddenly against his warm calves, making him jump. She drifts off to sleep, only to wake up cold and alone.

***

Christmas morning arrives, Nancy being the last one to dig into the pile of presents underneath the tree.

"Merry Christmas, Sweetie," says Joyce, handing over a soft package. Inside lies a soft, pink sweater.

"Oh, Mrs. Byers, this is beautiful. Thank you so much. You didn't have to get me anything."

"Nonsense, Nancy. Of course I did."

She also receives the newest winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature from Will, as well as a set of sparkly stud earrings from El and Mike. After breakfast Chief Hopper drives El to see Mike, while Will and Joyce start on a movie.

"Hey, want to go out for a walk?" Suggests Jonathan. "We should talk."

“Okay. Sounds serious.”

They head out, but this time Jonathan doesn't take her hand. Instead he stares at his feet and they barely manage to put any distance between themselves and the house.

“Just say it, Jonathan, whatever you have to say," she tells him.

He sighs. “Fine. I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to keep doing this- this, whatever it is that we're doing.“

"Why would you say that?"

"You just told me that you wanted to figure out what you want, right? Well, fucking around with me clearly isn't helping you with that. It's not a good idea, Nancy."

"Fine. Whatever. Like I told you, we could end it at any time one of us chose to," she replies. That was their deal. Sex until one of them wants out. She risks a look at Jonathan, right away wishing she hadn't. She's not sure whether he's more angry or sad. Whatever reaction he was expecting to get from her, he's clearly disappointed. And yet he nods at her, his Adam's apple bobbing. 

There's a strange numbness to her mind, but her head is humming, nearly drowning out all other sounds. 

Nancy follows Jonathan back to the house, but they never reach the front door. Someone is following them, _running_.

They both turn at the sound, catching sight of El between the trees. The girl is panting, her breaths fogging the air

“El, what's-“starts Jonathan, rushing to her side.

“It's Mike. Mike’s gone,” she says, looking not at Jonathan, but straight at Nancy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUN-DUN-DUN, we all love cliffhangers, right? Merry Christmas, guys.


End file.
